/fr 


TALES, 


TRADITIONS  AND  ROMANCE 


OP 


IB  O  R  D 


AND 


REVOLUTIONARY    TIMES. 


BY    EDWARD    S.    ELLIS. 


3STJKW  YORK : 

BEADLE  AND  COMPANY,  PUBLISHERS, 

118  WILLIAM    STREET- 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  Year  1864, 

by  BEADLE  AND  COMPANY,  in  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United 
States  for  the  Southern  District  of  New  York. 


PBEFACE. 

IN  this  volume  we  offer  the  reader  a  combination  of  two 
of  the  most  fascinating  qualities  which  a  book  can  possess. 
It  is  almost  strictly  historical,  and  yet  as  marvelous  as  the 
most  romantic  fiction.  The  sketches  and  incidents  here  gath 
ered  are  all  authenticated ;  yet  many  of  them,  in  their  won 
derful  interest  and  pathos,  exceed  the  bounds  of  fancy.  They 
belong  to  two  classes :  those  which  are  connected  with  the 
Revolution,  and  those  which  chronicle  the  peculiar  events  of 
our  Frontier  History.  While  they  will  absorb  the  attention 
of  the  most  intelligent  reader,  they  are  charmingly  adapted  to 
attract  young  people,  who  will  be  both  instructed  and  de 
lighted.  Boys  will  find  examples  worthy  of  emulation,  and 
will  learn  to  appreciate  those  traits  of  character  which  made 
the  glory  and  the  progress  of  our  young  republic ;  while  girls 
may  gain  dignity  of  mind  by  contemplating  the  devotion, 
courage  and  endurance  of  the  women  of  those  days. 

An  insight  will  be  afforded  into  the  customs  of  the  Indians, 
and  into  the  manner  of  life  of  the  early  settlers,  whose  dangers 
and  difficulties,  privations  and  calamities,  are  almost  incredible. 
Many  of  the  most  thrilling  events  in  our  national  history  are 
herein  related,  along  with  the  fearless  adventures  of  our  brave 
pioneers,  and  the  perils  and  catastrophes  which  befel  the 
families  of  those  whose  protectors  were  absent  on  the  field  cf 
battle,  or  whose  cabins  failed  to  find  sufficient  defense  in  the 
rifles  of  their  owners. 


IV  PREFACE. 

The  reader  will  linger  over  these  pages,  thrilled  by  the 
consciousness  that  the  scenes  so  vividly  brought  before  him 
are  real — a  living,  abiding  part  of  our  existence  as  a  people. 
The  "storied  Rhine"  and  "classic  Italy"  are  laid  and  over 
laid  thickly  with  traditions  which  give  a  vague  interest  to 
soil,  ruin,  mountain  and  sky.  We,  also,  have  our  traditions 
— different  in  kind,  but  of  wild  and  marvelous  interest — and 
the  day  shall  come  when  the  banks  of  the  fair  Ohio,  the  blue 
Muskingum,  the  picturesque  Allegany,  the  noble  Mississippi, 
shall  be  trodden  by  reverent  feet,  while  the  thoughts  of  the 
traveler  speed  back  to  the  days  of  the  lurking  red-man  and 
the  bold  ranger.  It  is  no  mean  duty  of  the  chronicler  to 
treasure  up  the  threads  of  a  thousand  little  facts,  and  weave 
them  into  a  web  which  shall  perpetuate  them  for  the  future. 

The  publishers  believe  that  this  volume  will  not  only  be  a 
favorite  in  the  hands  of  men,  young  and  old,  but  will  have  its 
appropriate  place  by  the  fireside. 


CONTENTS. 


Abduction  of  General  Wadsworth, 236 

Anecdotes  of  an  early  settler  of  Kentucky,                  -        -        -  61 

Anecdotes  of  juvenile  heroism,       - 202 

Anecdotes  of  Washington, -  111 

A  remarkable  hunting  excursion, 133 

Big  Joe  Logston's  struggle  with  an  Indian,         ....  69 

Boquet's  expedition  into  Indian  territory, 277 

Brady's  leap,        .....----.  363 

Brandt  and  the  boy, 32 

Brave  deeds  of  Logan, -  245 

British  atrocities  during  the  Revolution, 340 

Captain  Hubbell's  adventure  on  the  Ohio,  -  123 

Captain  John  Sevier, 313 

Captivity  of  Jonathan  Alder,       -        -  270 

Close  quarters  with  a  rattlesnake, 141 

Colonel  Horry,  of  Marion's  brigade,    ------  143 

Davy  Crockett's  adventure  with  a  cougar,     -        -        -        -  56 

Deborah  Sampson,  the  maiden  warrior,      -----  82 

Dick  Moxon's  fight  with  the  deer,                  187 

Downing's  remarkable  escape  from  an  Indian,  -        -        -        -  120 

Elerson's  twenty-five  mile  race,      -        -        -        -                -        -  160 

Ethan  Allen,  a  prisoner  of  war, 229 

Execution  of  Colonel  Isaac  Hayne, 335 

Female  characters  of  the  Revolution, 175 

General  Dale's  adventure, 310 

Harrison's  invasion  of  Canada  and  death  of  Tecumseh,     -        -  219 

Heroic  death  of  Cornstalk,  sachem  of  the  Shawnees,     -        -        -  252 

Horrible  atrocties  by  savages, 264 

Horrible  cruelties  by  British  troops, 297 

Horsewhipping  a  tyrant, 223 

Interesting  anecdotes  of  Mrs.  Fisher's  courage,      -        -        -        -  352 

John  Minter's  bear  fight, 53 

Joseph  Bettys'  bloody  career, 291 

Major  Robert  Rogers'  adventure, 308 


Vi  CONTENTS. 

Marvelous  escape  of  Weatherford,          --.-..  309 

Miss  Sherrill's  flight  to  the  fort, 314 

Molly  Pitcher  at  Monmouth, 172 

Moody,  the  refugee,     - 286 

Morgan's  prayer,     ----------  100 

Mrs.  Austin  and  the  bear, 48 

Mrs.  Slocumb  at  Moore's  Creek, '  -  347 

Murphy  saving  the  fort, 18 

Nathan  Hale's  arrest  and  execution, 341 

Proctor's  massacre  at  River  Basin, 212 

Bargeant  Jasper's  adventures  in  the  British  camp,         -  153 

Sargeant  Jasper  and  the  young  Creole  girl,        -  88 

Simon  Girty's  attack  on  Bryant  Station, 317 

Simon  Kenton  and  his  Indian  torture-ride,         ...        -  5 

Spirited  adventures  of  a  young  married  couple,     -                -        -  350 

Tecumseh  saving  the  prisoners,  -                        ....  309 

The  Baroness  de  Reidsel,                .        .        -                                -  183 

The  chieftain's  appeal, 325 

The  Grand  Tower  massacre,  -        -        -        -    '    -  76 
The  implacable  governor,   -        - 

The  Johnson  boys  killing  their  captors,                                          -  116 

The  leap  for  life,  -        -  300 

The  little  sentinel, 197 

The  mother's  trial,      -        - 242 

The  women  defending  the  wagon, 261 

Thrilling  anecdotes  of  women  of  the  Revolution,  93 

"William  Kennan's  flight  from  thirty  Indians,        -       -       -       -  165 


ILLUSTEATIOIsrS. 

SIMON  KENTON'S  TORTURE-RIDE,    -        -       -       -      .  -  3 

MURPHY  SAYING  THE  FORT,          -  25 

BRANT  AND  YOUNG  M'KOWN, 33 

MRS.  AUSTIN  AND  THE  BEAR,                ....  49 

JOE  LOGSTON'S  ENCOUNTER  WITH  AN  INDIAN,         -  66 

DEBORAH,  THE  MAIDEN  WARRIOR,      ....  99 

GENERAL  MORGAN'S  PRAYER, 104 

JOHNSON  BOYS  KILLING  THEIR  CAPTORS,        -        -  121 

SWEATLAND'S  HUNTING  ADVENTURE,                           -  130 

COLONEL  HORRY'S  EXPLOITS,                 ....  145 

ELERSON'S  TWENTY-FIVE  MILE  RACE,  -                        -  161 

MOLLY  PITCHER  AT  MONMOUTH,  -        -        -        -        -  178 

THE  LITTLE  SENTINEL,         -        -        -        -        -        -        -  194 

TECUMSEH  SAVING  THE  PRISONERS,  217 

HORSEWHIPPING  A  TYRANT,              232 

THE  MOTHER'S  TRIAL,                                ....  249 

WOMEN  DEFENDING  THE  WAGON, 257 

CAPTIVITY  OF  JONATHAN  ALDER,  272 

MOODY,  THE  REFUGEE,                 -        -        -        -        -        -  288 

THE  LEAP  FOR  LIFE,  -  304 

THE  CHIEFTAIN'S  APPEAL, 321 

THE  IMPLACABLE  GOVERNOR,        ....  337 

MRS.  SLOCUMB  AT  MOORE'S  CREEK,        ....  353 

BRADY'S  LEAP, 361 


T  A.  L  E  S, 


TKADITIONS  AND  ROMANCE 


OF 


BORDER  AND  REVOLUTIONARY  TIMES. 


SIMON    KENTON. 

MURPHY    SAVINGS    THE    FORT. 

BRANT    AND    THE    BOY. 

MRS.  AUSTIN    AND    THE    BEAR. 


BEADLE  AND  COMPANY, 

NEW    YORK:     118    WILLIAM    STREET 

LONDON :  44  PATERNOSTER  ROW. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1863,  by 

BEADLE   AND    COMPANY, 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States  for  the 
Southern  District  of  New  York. 


SIMON  KENTON, 

AND    HIS 

TOKTURE-HIDE 


FOKEMOST  among  the  wild  and  terrific  scenes  which  arise  before 
our  startled  eyes  when  we  turn  the  pages  of  border  warfare,  is  the 
ride  of  Simon  Ken  ton — not  that  the  cruelty  of  its  devisers  was  so 
atrocious,  nor  the  final  results  so  dreadful,  as  in  many  other  instances  ; 
but  the  novelty,  the  unique  savageness  of  the  affair,  strikes  upon  the 
imagination,  as  if  it  were  one  of  those  thrilling  stories  related  of  ages 
and  people  which  never  were,  instead  of  an  event  that  actually  oc 
curred  to  one  of  our  own  countrymen  in  one  of  our  own  territories. 

In  the  early  light  of  morning  breaking  through  the  trees  which  sur 
round  them,  a  group  of  Indians  are  preparing  to  resume  their  march, 
after  a  night  of  repose.  They  have  with  them  a  solitary  prisoner. 
Corraled  about  them  are  numbers  of  horses,  the  recovery  of  which 
has  been  the  object  of  the  expedition.  Before  these  are  released  and 
the  day's  march  resumed,  the  prisoner  must  be  disposed  of.  While 
his  captors  are  deciding  this  important  matter,  we  will  discover  who 
he  is  and  what  has  brought  him  into  his  present  state. 

About  the  first  of  September,  1778,  Simon  Kenton — the  friend  and 
younger  coadjutor  of  Boone,  who  had  been  with  the  latter  for  some 
lime  at  Boonesborough  Station,  employed  in  protecting  the  surround 
ing  country,  and  engaging  in  occasional  skirmishes  with  the  Indians 
— becoming  tired  of  a  temporary  inactivity  which  his  habits  of  life 
rendered  insupportable,  determined  to  have  another  adventure  with 
the  Indians.  For  this  purpose  he  associated  with  Alex.  Montgomery 
and  George  Clark,  to  go  on  an  expedition  for  stealing  horses  from 
the  Shawnees. 

5 


6  TALES    AND    TRADITIONS. 

The  three  brave  scouts  reached  old  Chilicothe  without  meeting 
with  any  thing  exciting.  There  they  fell  in  with  a  drove  of  Indian 
horses,  feeding  on  the  rich  prairie,  and  securing  seven  of  the  drove, 
started  on  their  return.  Reaching  the  Ohio,  they  found  the  river 
lashed  into  fury  by  a  hurricane,  and  the  horses  refused  to  cross. 
Here  w/is  an  unlooked-for  dilemma.  It  was  evening ;  they  felt  sure  of 
being  pursued  ;  no  time  was  to  be  lost.  As  the  only  resource,  they 
rode  back  to  the  hills,  hobbled  the  animals,  and  then  retraced  their 
steps  to  see  if  they  were  followed.  Finding  as  yet  no  signs  of  pur- 
suit^  they  took  what  rest  their  anxiety  would  allow  them.  The  next 
morning,  the  wind  having  subsided,  they  sought  their  horses  and 
again  attempted  to  cross  the  river,  but  with  the  same  result ;  the 
horses,  from  fright,  refused  to  take  to  the  water,  and  they  were  driven 
to  the  alternative  of  parting  with  them.  Selecting  each  one  of  the 
best,  they  turned  the  others  loose,  and  started  for  the  Falls  of  the 
Ohio,  (now  just  below  Louisville) ;  but  disliking  thus  to  abandon  the 
fruits  of  their  expedition,  they  unwisely  returned  again,  to  attempt  to 
retake  and  lead  the  others.  This  was  by  no  means  an  easy  task, 
and  while  engaged  in  the  endeavor,  they  were  surprised  by  a  party 
of  mounted  savages,  who  had  followed  their  trail  with  vengeful  per 
tinacity.  The  whites  were  separated  ;  and  Kenton,  hearing  a  whoop 
in  the  direction  of  his  comrades,  dismounted,  creeping  cautiously  in 
the  direction  of  the  sound,  to  discover,  if  possible,  the  force  of  the 
enemy.  Dragging  himself  forward  on  his  hands  and  knees,  he  came 
suddenly  upon  several  Indians,  who  did  not  discover  him  at  the 
moment.  Being  surrounded,  and  thinking  the  boldest  game  the  best, 
he  took  aim  at  the  foremost  and  pulled  trigger,  but  his  gun  missed 
fire.  This,  of  course,  discovered  his  position,  and  he  was  instantly 
pursued.  Taking  advantage  of  some  fallen  timber,  he  endeavored 
to  elude  his  pursuers,  by  dodging  them,  and  hiding  in  the  under 
brush,  where  their  horses  could  not  follow ;  but  they  were  too  cun 
ning,  or  rather  too  many  for  him.  Dividing  their  forces  and  riding 
along  either  side  the  timber,  they  "  beat  it  up,"  until,  as  he  was 
emerging  at  the  further  end,  he  was  confronted  by  one  of  the  sav 
ages,  who,  the  moment  he  discovered  his  white  foe,  threw  himself 
from  his  horse  and  rushed  upon  Kenton  with  his  tomahawk. 
Kenton  drew  back  his  arm  to  defend  himself  with  the  butt  end  of 
6 


THE    TORTURE-HIDE    OP    SIMON    KENTON.  7 

his  gun  ;  but  as  he  was  about  to  strike,  another  stalwart  savage, 
whom  he  had  not  observed,  seized  him  in  his  powerful  grasp,  pre 
venting  the  descending  blow.  He  was  now  a  prisoner,  compelled 
to  yield,  with  such  grace  as  he  could,  to  superior  numbers.  While 
they  were  binding  him,  his  companion,  Montgomery,  made  his 
appearance,  firing  at  one  of  the  savages,  but  missing  his  mark.  He 
was  immediately  pursued ;  in  a  few  moments  one  of  the  pursuers 
returned,  shaking  the  bloody  scalp  of  his  friend  in  Kenton's  face. 
Clark  succeeded  in  making  his  escape,  and  crossing  the  river,  arrived 
in  safety  at  Logan's  Station. 

That  night  the  Indians  encamped  on  the  banks  of  the  river;  in 
the  morning  they  prepared  to  return  with  their  unfortunate  prisoner, 
who  had  passed  an  uneasy  night,  bound  to  the  ground,  and  not 
knowing  precisely  what  vengeance  his  enemies  might  be  pleased  to 
visit  upon  him.  Some  of  them  knew  him  well,  and  he  realized  that 
there  were  long  scores  to  be  wiped  off  against  him.  However,  the 
red-man  had  a  keen  appreciation  of  bravery,  and  he  did  not  antici 
pate  any  severer  fate  upon  that  account.  Some  little  time  elapsed 
before  they  succeeded  in  catching  all  their  horses.  The  day  had 
well  advanced  before  they  were  ready  to  march,  and  the  annoyance 
consequent  upon  this  delay  so  exasperated  them,  that  they  determ 
ined  to  make  their  captive  pay  the  full  penalty  of  the  trouble  he  had 
caused  them.  They  therefore  selected  the  wildest  and  most  restive 
horse  among  their  number,  and  proceeded  to  bind  Ken  ton  upon  his 
back.  Their  mode  of  proceeding  was  as  follows  :  a  rope  was  first 
passed  round  the  under  jaw  of  the  horse,  either  end  of  which  was 
held  by  an  Indian  ;  yet  even  with  this  advantage,  it  required  the 
assistance  of  others  to  control  the  vicious  beast,  which  was  determ 
ined  not  to  receive  its  burden.  Kenton  was  first  seated  upon  the 
horse  with  his  face  toward  the  tail,  and  his  feet  tied  together  undtr 
the  animal.  Another  rope  confined  his  arms,  drawing  the  prisoner 
down  upon  his  back.  A  third,  secured  about  his  neck,  was  fastened 
to  the  horse's  neck,  thence  extending  longitudinally  down  his  person 
to  the  animal's  tail,  where  it  was  secured,  and  answered  well  for  a 
crupper.  In  this  way  he  was  fastened  to  the  wild  and  frantic  steed, 
beyond  the  possibility  of  escape.  To  make  the  matter  sure  against 
contingencies,  the  now  delighted  savages  passed  another  rope  about 

7 


8  TALES    AND    TRADITIONS. 

his  thighs,  securing  it  to  the  one  which  served  as  a  girth.  They 
then  fastened  a  pair  of  moccasins  upon  his  hands  to  prevent  his  de 
fending  his  face.  During  the  time  they  were  thus  preparing  him  for 
his  Mazeppa-like  ride,  they  taunted  him  by  asking  if  he  wanted  to 
steal  any  more  horses.  They  danced  around  him,  yelped  and 
screamed,  and,  in  every  possible  manner,  expressed  their  infernal 
delight  at  the  anticipated  sufferings  of  their  victim.  The  heart  of 
Simon  Kenton  seldom  quailed  before  any  danger ;  but  it  must  have 
been  supernaturally  strengthened  not  to  have  sickened  during  those 
moments  of  preparation  and  anticipation.  To  be  bound  to  unspoken 
torture,  which  coutd  end,  at  the  last,  only  in  death — death  long  de 
ferred,  perhaps  into  hours  and  days,  whose  every  minute  and  second 
would  be  sharp  with  anguish — to  be  so  helpless  to  resist  the  evils 
which  were  sure  to  come,  with  the  close  rope  strangling  the  breath 
in  his  throat  whenever  he  attempted  to  raise  his  head  to  see  the  cru 
elties  which  he  felt — to  add  all  the  mental  miseries  of  suspense  to 
the  horrible  realities  before  him — this  was  enough  surely  to  shake 
even  the  sturdy  spirit  of  the  defiant  pioneer.  For  a  moment  he  was 
inclined  to  beg  of  his  tormentors  to  tomahawk  him  then  and  there ; 
but  he  knew  that  such  an  appeal  would  gratify  their  malice  while  it 
would  produce  no  other  effect ;  and  he  closed  his  lips  tightly,  re 
solved  that  they  should  enjoy  no  sign  of  fear  or  dismay  to  enhance 
their  inhuman  delight.  One  glance  at  the  blue  sky  smiling  down 
between  the  lightly-waving  branches  of  the  trees — one  scornful  look 
into  the  demon-faces  about  him,  and,  for  an  instant,  his  eyes  closed ; 
he  felt  like  one  falling  from  a  precipice  into  terrific  depths  yawning 
to  receive  him. 

With  stripes  and  demoniac  yells  they  at  length  turned  loose  the 
almost  savage  horse,  which  was  goaded  to  desperation  by  the  tumult 
and  the  blows.  The  infuriated  beast  at  once  bounded  away  on  its 
aimless,  erratic  course,  anxious  only  to  rid  itself  of  its  strange 
burden. 

"  'Twas  scarcely  yet  the  break  of  day, 
And  on  he  foamed — away  ! — away  ! — 
The  last  of  human  sounds  which  rose, 
As  he  was  darted  from  his  foes, 
Was  the  wild  shout  of  savage  laughter 
"Which  on  the  wind  came  roaring  after." 


THE    '!  ORTUItE-HIDE    OP    «IMON    KENTON.  9 

Frantic  with  fright,  the  noble  animal  went  careering  through  the 
woods,  rearing  and  plunging  in  his  madness,  inflicting  upon  his  tor 
tured  rider  countless  wounds  and  blows  as  he  endeavored  to  dash 
him  against  the  trees,  or  rushed  through  the  tangled  brush,  lacerat 
ing  the  flesh  of  both  with  innumerable  thorns  and  briers.  In  one 
of  the  mad  dashes  which  the  horse  gave  through  the  unpitying  for 
est,  Kenton's  arm  came  with  such  force  against  a  tree  that  it  was 
broken — he  knew  it  by  iu  becoming  so  limp  and  helpless,  as  well  as 
from  the  knife-like  pain  which  darted  from  it.  The  wretched  man 
could  only  hope  that  the  horse  would  some  time  tire  ;  that,  wearied 
out  with  its  useless  efforts  to  free  itself  from  its  burden,  it  would 
subside  into  some  quiet,  which  might  give  a  moment's  ease  to  his 
aching  and  mangled  limbs ;  but  he  hoped  in  vain  ! 

"  Each  motion  which  he  made  to  free 
His  swollen  limbs  from  their  agony, 
Increased  its  fury  and  affright ; 
He  tried  his  voice— 't\vas  faint  and  low, 
.     But  yet  it  swerved,  as  from  a  blow ; 
And,  starting  at  each  accent,  sprang 
As  from  a  sudden  trumpet's  clang. 
Meanwhile  the  cords  were  wet  with  gore, 
Which,  oozing  from  his  wounds,  ran  o'er; 
And  on  his  tongue  the  thirst  became 
A  something  fiercer  far  than  flame." 

Oh,  that  horrible  thirst  which  takes  possession  of  the  person  suffer 
ing  exquisite  pain,  until  the  torture  seems  to  exceed  that  of  the  an 
guish  which  causes  it.  None  but  those  who  have  experienced  this 
extremity  of  mortal  suffering  can  picture  it ;  none  but  those  who 
have  suffered  the  horrible  pangs  of  thirst  can  sympathize  with  the 
unutterable  pain  which  Simon  Kenton  endured  for  the  next  few 
hours.  Yes,  for  hours !  The  harassed  steed,  at  length,  with  wasted 
strength  and  trembling  limbs,  returned  to  the  point  from  which  he 
had  started,  with  his  now  almost  inanimate  rider,  who  must  have 
sunk  into  insensibility  long  before,  had  not  the  fever  of  his  pain  kept 
him  from  that  blessed  relief.  The  hunter  hoped  that  now  he  would 
either  be  killed  outright,  or  relieved  of  his  present  position  ;  but  such 
was  not  the  intention  of  the  red  devils  who  had  him  in  their  power. 
Worn  out  with  fatigue,  and  satisfied  of  his  inability  to  rid  himself 

of  his  unwelcome  burden,  the  exhausted  horse  took  his  place  in  the 

9 


10  TALES    AND    TRADITTONP. 

cavalcade,  which  had  already  started  for  its  home.  The  only  mercy 
they  vouchsafed  the  prisoner  was  to  give  him,  twice  or  thrice,  some 
water.  His  sufferings  had  on\y  commenced — death,  in  its  worst 
form,  would  have  been  preferred  to  the  ordeal  through  which  he  had 
yet  to  pass.  To  feel  certain  of  death — to  count  the  lingering  hours 
as  they  pass — to  know  that  each  is  but  a  step  toward  a  certain  doom- 
to  fee.  thj'.t  doom  impending  day  by  day,  and  yet  to  see  it  postponed 
through  miserable  stretches  of  suffering — to  endure  continually  all 
the  anguish  of  which  the  human  frame  is  capable,  and  all  {his  time 
to  know  that  hope  has  fled  beyond  recall— that  all  this  protracted 
agony  must  end  in  inevitable  death,  is  too  terrible  to  contemplate. 

All  this  Simon  Kenton  bore  for  three  days  and  nights.  It  seems 
incredible  that  life  should  have  held  out  so  long ;  but  his  previous 
training  in  the  schools  of  endurance  seemed  only  to  have  fitted  him 
now  to  hold  out  through  what  no  other  man  could  have  borne. 
Through  three  nights  he  lay  in  his  cradle  of  anguish  ;  through  three 
days  he  was  racked  by  the  motion  of  the  animal  which  bore  him ; 
and  when  the  Indians  reached  their  village,  he  was  still  alive. 

It  had  been  the  intention  of  the  savages  to  procure  his  death  by 
means  of  the  wanton  torture  they  had  instituted  ;  but  when  he 
reached  his  destination  alive,  owing  to  some  custom  or  superstition 
of  their  own,  they  delivered  him  over  to  the  care  of  their  squaws. 
These  took  him  from  the  rack,  bathed  his  disfigured  body,  set  his 
broken  arm,  bandaged  his  wounds,  made  soothing  and  healing 
washes  from  the  herbs  of  the  forest,  nourished  him  with  drinks  and 
food,  and  gradually  restored  him  to  health.  Not  only  was  his  life 
saved,  but  his  iron  constitution  remained  unbroken  by  the  fearful 
trial  through  which  it  had  passed.  As  soon  as  his  renewed  strength 
warranted  the  attempt,  he  set  about  planning  the  mode  of  his  escape, 
which  he  successfully  accomplished,  returning  to  the  friends  who  hn  1 
long  since  given  him  up  for  lost,  to  relate  to  their  almost  incredulous 
hearts  the  story  of  his  sufferings. 

This  remarkable  episode  is  but  one  of  countless  adventures  in 
which  Simon  Kenton  was  engaged.  Our  readers  may  hear  from  him 
again  in  scenes  equally  thrilling.  He  was,  without  doubt,  one  of 
the  bravest  and  most  interesting  of  the  western  pioneers ;  he  w?i« 
exrclled  by  none,  and  scarcely  equaled  by  his  precursor,  Druiicl 
10 


THE    TORTURE-RIDE    OP    SIMON    KENTON.  11 

Boone.  His  biography,  as  far  as  it  has  been  preserved,  will  be  read 
with  interest  by  all  ;  his  name  will  never  be  forgotten  in  the  valley 
of  the  great  West.  He  was  the  coadjutor  of  Boone  throughout  the 
protracted  struggle  for  the  occupancy  of  the  rich  forests  and  prairies 
on  either  side  of  the  Ohio.  The  almost  incessant  exposure  and  life 
of  self-denial  which  these  resolute  adventurers  endured  can  scarcely 
be  appreciated  by  us  of  this  generation  who  enjoy  in  peace  the 
fruits  of  their  sufferings. 

While  the  United  States  were  British  Colonies,  and  Kentucky  and 
Ohio  still  were  primeval  in  their  solitudes,  filled  with  Indians,  and 
wholly  destitute  of  white  inhabitants,  these  two  heroic  men,  Boone 
and  Kenton,  as  if  moved  by  the  finger  of  Providence,  left  the  shades 
of  civilization,  entire  strangers  to  each  other,  and  ventured  into  the 
midst  of  a  boundless  wilderness,  neither  having  any  knowledge  of 
the  purpose  or  movement  of  the  other.  Boone  led  the  way  from 
North  Carolina,  crossed  the  mountains,  and  entered  the  valley  of 
Kentucky  in  17G9  ;  Kenton  followed  from  Virginia,  in  1773.  The 
former  emigrated  from  choice,  to  gratify  his  natural  taste,  after  full 
deliberation,  and  after  having  calculated  the  consequences.  Not  so 
with  Kenton  ;  he  fled  to  the  wilderness  to  escape  the  penalty  of  a 
supposed  crime.  He  had,  unfortunately,  become  involved  in  a  quar 
rel  with  a  young  man  of  his  neighborhood,  with  whom  he  had  lived 
in  habits  of  great  intimacy  and  friendship,  and,  as  he  supposed,  had 
killed  him  in  a  personal  conflict.  To  avoid  the  consequences  of  that 
imaginary  homicide,  and  to  escape,  if  possible,  from  the  distress  of 
his  own  feelings,  he  left  home  and  friends,  without  waiting  to  ascer 
tain  the  result.  Unaccompanied  by  any  human  being,  he  crossed 
the  mountains  and  descended  into  the  valley  of  the  Big  Kanawh;), 
under  the  assumed  name  of  Simon  Butler.  He  retained  that  name 
several  years,  until  he  received  information  that  the  friend  whom  be 
supposed  had  fallen  under  his  hand,  had  recovered  from  the  blow, 
and  was  alive  and  in  health.  He  then  resumed  his  proper  name, 
and  disclosed  the  reason  which  had  led  him  to  assume  that  of  But 
ler  ;  but  a  love  for  the  wild  life  to  which  -he  had  exiled  himself  had 
now  taken  such  strong  hold  of  him  that  he  made  no  effort  to  return 
to  the  ties  from  which  he  had  so  hastily  fled. 

It  is  a  matter  of  regret  that  so  small  a  portion  of  the  achievements 

11 


12  TALES    AND    TRADITIONS. 

of  this  interesting  man  have  been  perpetuated.  This  may  be  ac 
counted  for  by  the  fact  that  so  large  a  portion  of  his  life  was  spe:it 
in  the  wilderness,  either  in  solitude,  or  associated  with  others  of  the 
same  adventurous  cast  with  himself;  and  it  explains  the  reason  why 
we  are  not  only  without  a  connected  record  of  his  life,  but  have  so 
few  of  its  isolated  transactions  preserved.  It  is  known,  however, 
that,  after  he  joined  the  adventurers  in  the  district  of  Kentucky, 
about  two  years  before  the  Declaration  of  American  Independence, 
he  engaged  in  most  of  the  battles  and  skirmishes  between  the  white 
inhabitants  and  the  savages  which  followed,  during  1774  to  1783. 
He  became  an  enterprising  leader  in  most  of  the  expeditions  against 
the  Indian  towns  north-west  of  the  Ohio.  These  conflicts,  indeed, 
continued  during  the  long  period  of  twenty  years,  intervening  be 
tween  their  commencement  and  the  decisive  victory  of  "  Mad 
Anthony "  Wayne  at  the  rapids  of  the  Maumee,  in  August,  1794, 
which  was  followed  by  the  celebrated  treaty  of  Greenville,  and  peace 
to  the  afflicted  border.  Kenton  was  always  considered  one  of  the 
boldest  and  most  active  defenders  of  the  western  country,  from  the 
commencement  of  its  settlement  until  the  close  of  Indian  hostili 
ties.  In  all  their  battles  and  expeditions  he  took  a  conspicuous 
part.  He  was  taken  prisoner  several  times  and  conveyed  to  the 
Sluuvnee  towns,  but  in  every  instance  he  made  his  escape  and 
returned  to  his  friends. 

On  one  occasion  he  was  captured  when  on  an  expedition  against 
the  Wabash  (Miami)  villages,  and  taken  to  one  of  the  remote  Indian 
towns,  where  a  council  was  held  to  decide  on  his  fate.  Again  he 
was  fated  to  endure  one  of  their  cruel  and  peculiar  modes  of  inflicting 
punishment.  He  was  painted  black,  tied  to  a  stake,  and  suffered  to 
remain  in  this  painful  position  for  twenty-four  hours,  anticipating  the 
horrors  of  a  slow  and  cruel  death,  by  starvation  or  fire.  He  was 
next  condemned  to  run  the  gauntlet.  The  Indians,  several  hundred 
in  number,  of  both  sexes,  and  every  age  and  rank,  armed  with 
switches,  sticks,  bludgeons  and  other  implements  of  assault,  were 
formed  in  two  lines,  between  which  the  unhappy  prisoner  was  made 
to  pass ;  being  promised  that,  if  he  reached  the  door  of  the  council- 
house,  at  the  further  end  of  the  lines,  no  further  punishment  would 
be  inflicted.  He  accordingly  ran,  with  all  the  speed  of  which  his 
12 


THE    TORTUKK-U1DK    OF    SIMON    KENTON.  13 

debilitated  condition  rendered  him  capable,  dreadfully  beaten  by  the 
garages  as  he  passed,  and  had  nearly  reached  the  goal,  when  he  was 
knocked  down  *>y  a  warrior  with  a  club;  and  the  demoniac  set, 
gathering  around  the  prostrate  body,  continued  to  beat  him  until 
life  appeared  to  be  nearly  extinguished. 

In  this  wretched  condition,  naked,  lacerated  and  exhausted,  he 
was  marched  from  town  to  town,  exhibited,  tortured,  often  threat 
ened  to  be  burned  at  the  stake,  and  compelled  frequently  to  run  the 
gauntlet.  On  one  of  these  occasions  he  attempted  to  make  InS 
escape,  broke  through  the  ranks  of  his  torturers,  and  had  outstripped 
those  who  pursued  him,  when  he  was  met  by  some  warriors  on 
horseback,  who  compelled  him  to  surrender.  After  running  the 
gauntlet  in  thirteen  towns,  he  was  taken  to  the  "Wyandot  town  of 
Lower  Sandusky,  in  Ohio,  to  be  burned.  Here  resided  the  white 
miscreant,  Simon  Girty,  who,  having  just  returned  from  an  unsuc 
cessful  expedition  against  the  frontiers  of  Pennsylvania,  was  in  a 
particularly  bad  humor.  Hearing  that  there  was  a  white  prisoner 
in  town,  the  renegade  rushed  upon  him,  struck  him,  beat  him  to  the 
ground,  and  was  proceeding  to  further  atrocities,  when  Kenton  had 
the  presence  of  mind  to  call  him  by  name  and  claim  his  protection. 
They  had  known  each  other  in  their  youth ;  Kenton  had  once  saved 
the  life  of  Girty  ;  and  deaf  as  was  the  latter,  habitually,  to  every 
dictate  of  benevolence,  he  admitted  the  claim  of  his  former  ac 
quaintance.  Actuated  by  one  of  those  unaccountable  caprices 
common  among  savages,  he  interceded  for  him,  rescued  him  from 
the  stake,  and  took  him  to  his  own  house,  where,  in  a  few  days,  the 
prisoner  recovered  his  strength.  Some  of  the  chiefs,  however, 
became  dissatisfied  ;  another  council  was  held,  the  former  decree 
was  reversed,  and  Kenton  was  again  doomed  to  the  stake. 

From  this  extremity  he  was  rescued  by  the  intercession  of  Dre\v- 
yer,  a  British  agent,  who,  having  succeeded  in  obtaining  his  release, 
carried  him  to  Detroit,  where  he  was  received  by  the  British  com 
mander  as  a  prisoner  of  war.  From  that  place  he  made  his  escape, 
in  company  with  two  other  Americans;  and,  after  a  march  of  thirty 
days  through  the  wilderness,  continually  exposed  to  recapture,  had 
the  good  fortune  to  escape  all  perils,  and  to  reach  the  settlements  of 
Kentucky  in  safety. 

13 


14  TALES    AND    TRADITIONS. 

Hall,  from  whose  sketches  of  the  West  we  have  gathered  this 
account  of  his  running  the  gauntlet,  states  that  all  those  horrors  were 
endured  upon  the  occasion  of  his  captivity  following  his  Mazeppa- 
like  ride,  although  Burnet,  in  his  "  Notes,"  speaks  of  it  as  upon  another 
and  a  future  occasion. 

After  the  fall  of  Kaskaskia,  which  took  place  in  1778,  and  in  Hie 
expedition  against  which  Kenton  took  an  active  part,  he  was  sent 
with  a  small  party  to  Kentucky  with  dispatches.  On  their  way  the 
rangers  fell  in  with  a  camp  of  Indians,  in  whose  possession  were  a 
number  of  horses,  which  the  daring  fellows  took  and  sent  back  to 
the  army,  then  in  great  need  of  the  animals. 

Pursuing  their  way  by  Vincennes,  they  entered  that  French-Indian 
town  at  night,  traversed  several  of  the  streets,  and  departed  without 
being  discovered,  taking  from  the  inhabitants  two  horses  to  each 
man.  When  they  came  to  White  river,  a  raft  was  made  on  which 
to  cross,  while  the  horses  were  driven  in  to  swim  the  river.  On  the 
opposite  shore  a  party  of  Indians  was  encamped,  who  caught  the 
horses  as  they  ascended  the  bank.  Such  are  the  vicissitudes  of 
border  incident !  The  same  horses  which  had  been  audaciously 
taken  only  the  night  before  from  the  interior  of  a  regularly  garrisoned 
town,  were  lost  by  being  accidentally  driven  by  their  captors  into  a 
camp  of  the  enemy !  Kenton  and  his  party,  finding  themselves  in 
the  utmost  danger,  returned  to  the  shore  from  which  they  had 
pushed  their  raft,  and  concealed  themselves  until  night,  when  they 
crossed  the  river  at  a  different  place,  reaching  Kentucky  in 
safety. 

The  expedition  against  Kaskaskia  was  one  of  the  earliest  made  by 
the  Americans  beyond  the  Ohio.  This  place,  as  well  as  the  posts 
upon  the  Lakes,  was  then  in  possession  of  the  British,  with  whom 
we  were  at  war.  Being  one  of  the  points  from  which  the  Indians 
were  supplied  with  ammunition,  and  thus  enabled  to  harass  the 
settlements  in  Kentucky,  its  capture  was  considered  so  important 
that  the  legislature  of  Virginia  were  induced  to  raise  a  regiment  for 
the  purpose.  The  command  was  given  to  Colonel  George  Rogers 
Clarke,  the  young  military  hero,  to  whom,  more  than  to  any  other 
one  person,  Kentucky  owes  her  successful  foundation  as  a  State.  He 
was,  as  a  military  leader,  what  Kenton  was  as  a  scout  and  skirmisher— 
14 


THE    TORTURE  HIDE    OF    SIMON    KEKTOK.  15 

one  of  those  men  who  seemed  raised  up,  providentially,  to  master 
great,  difficulties. 

The  story  of  the  campaign  by  which  he  took  Kaskaskia  is  one  of 
the  most  interesting  of  our  border  experiences.  With  two  or  three 
hundred  men,  mostly  raised  in  Virginia,  he  crossed  the  mountains  to 
the  Monongahela,  and  descended  by  water  to  the  Falls  of  the  Ohio, 
where  he  was  joined  by  some  volunteers  from  Kentucky,  among 
whom  was  Simon  Kenton.  After  a  halt  of  a  few  days  to  refresh  his 
men,  he  proceeded  down  the  Ohio  to  the  neighborhood  of  Fort 
Massac,  a  point  about  sixty  miles  above  the  mouth  of  that  river, 
where  he  landed  and  hid  his  boats,  to  prevent  their  discovery  by  the 
Indians.  He  was  now  distant  from  Kaskaskia  about  one  hundred 
and  thirty  miles.  The  intervening  country  must  have  been,  at  that 
time,  almost  impassable.  His  route  led  through  a  flat  region,  over 
flowed  by  the  backwater  of  the  streams,  and  entirely  covered  with  a 
most  luxuriant  vegetation,  which  must  have  greatly  impeded  the 
inarch  of  his  troops.  Through  this  dreary  region,  the  intrepid  young 
leader  marched  on  foot,  at  the  head  of  his  gallant  baud,  with  his 
rifle  on  his  shoulder  and  his  provisions  on  his  back.  After  wading 
through  swamps,  crossing  creeks  by  such  methods  as  could  be  hastily 
adopted,  and  sustaining  two  days'  march  after  the  provisions  were 
exhausted,  he  arrived  in  the  night  before  the  village  of  Kaskaskia. 
Having  halted  and  formed  his  men,  he  made  them  a  speech,  which 
contained  only  the  brief  sentence :  "  The  town  must  be  taken  at  all 
events."  Accordingly  it  was  taken,  and  that  without  striking  a 
blow  ;  for,  although  fortified,  the  surprise  was  so  complete  that  no 
resistance  was  attempted.  This  exploit  was  followed  up  by  a  series 
of  the  same  character ;  in  all  of  which  Kenton  played  his  part,  being 
chosen,  as  we  have  seen,  after  this  expedition,  to  be  the  bearer  of 
important  dispatches  through  a  hostile  country.  In  all  emergencies 
like  this,  his  aid  was  invaluable. 

Simon  Kenton  was  a  striking  example  of  cool,  deliberate  bravery, 
united  with  a  tender,  sympathizing  heart.  In  times  of  danger  and 
conflict,  all  his  energies  were  enlisted  in  the  struggle.  He  fought  for 
victory,  regardless  of  consequences ;  but  the  moment  the  contest 
was  over,  and  his  feelings  resumed  their  usual  state,  he  could  sit 
down  and  weep  over  the  misery  he  had  assisted  in  producing. 

15 


1G 

Doubtless  this  extreme  sensibility  was  (lie  cause  of  his  being  driven 
into  the  wilds  of  the  West — the  wretchedness  he  suffered  on  account 
of  the  blow  he  had  dealt  in  a  moment  of  passion  being  such  as  per 
mitted  his  mind  no  repose  for  a  long  period  after  the  deed  was 
committed.  Such  tenderness  of  heart  is  not  incompatible  with  the 
sternest  braveiy — indeed,  the  most  heroic  are,  usually,  also  the  most 
gentle  and  generous  in  times  of  repose.  During  a  large  portion  of 
his  life,  solitude,  danger  and  want  were  his  attendants;  necessity 
had  so  familiarized  him  to  privation,  that  ho  could  endure  abstinence 
from  food,  and  subsist  on  as  small  a  quantity  of  it,  without  detriment 
to  health  or  strength,  as  the  savages  themselves. 

During  his  residence  in  the  wilderness,  the  land-warrants  issued 
by  the  commonwealth  of  Virginia  were  easily  obtained.  After  the 
holders  were  permitted  to  locate  them  west  of  the  mountains,  he 
found  no  difficulty  in  possessing  himself  of  as  many  of  them  as  he 
desired ;  and  having  traversed  the  wilderness  in  every  direction,  his 
topographical  knowledge  enabled  him  to  select  for  location  the  best 
and  most  valuable  lands  in  the  country.  Well,  too,  had  he  earned 
these  estates,  for  his  hand  had  opened  them  pot  only  to  himself  but 
for  thousands  of  others  to  possess  and  enjoy.  Had  he  possessed 
the  information  necessary  to  enable  him  to  make  his  entries  suffi 
ciently  special  to  stand  the  test  of  legal  scrutiny,  his  locations  would 
have  been  the  foundation  of  a  princely  fortune  for  himself  and  his 
descendants.  Unfortunately,  however,  he  was  uneducated  ;  and, 
although  his  locations  were  judicious,  and  his  entries  were  made  in 
the  expressive  language  suggested  by  a  vigorous  mind,  yet  they  were 
not  sufficiently  technical ;  in  consequence  of  which  the  greater  part 
of  them  were  lost,  by  subsequent  entries  more  specifically  and  tech 
nically  made.  He  succeeded  in  retaining  a  few  of  them  however, 
and  these  were  sufficient  to  make  him  entirely  independent. 

The  first  authentic  information  we  have  of  him,  after  he  left  the 
place  of  his  nativity,  is  that  he  was  engaged  in  the  great  battle  fought 
at  the  mouth  of  the  Big  Kanawha,  between  the  Indians  and  the 
troops  of  Lord  Dinsmore,  while  he  was  Governor  of  the  Province  of 
Virginia  ;  in  which  he,  Kenton,  was  distinguished  for  his  bravery. 

The  next  intelligence  is,  that   in  1775,  he  was   in   the   district   of 
Kentucky  commanding  a  station,  near  the  spot  where  the  town  ol 
10 


THE    TORTURE-RIDE    OF    SIMON    KENTON.  17 

Washington  now  stands.  Not  long  after  that  work  was  done,  the 
station  was  discovered,  attacked  and  destroyed  by  the  Indians,  and 
it  does  not  appear  that  he  made  any  effort  to  reoccupy  it  until  the 
year  1784,  after  the  treaty  of  peace  with  Great  Britain.  In  that  year 
he  rebuilt  his  block-house  and  cabins,  and  proceeded  to  raise  a  crop ; 
and  though  frequently  disturbed  by  the  Indians,  he  continued  to 
occupy  and  improve  it,  until  he  removed  his  family  to  Ohio,  some 
eight  or  ten  years  after  the  treaty  of  Greenville. 

At  the  commencement  of  the  war  of  1812,  Kenton  was  a  citizen 
of  Ohio,  residing  in  the  vicinity  of  Urbana.  He  then  bore  on  his 
person  the  scars  of  many  a  bloody  conflict ;  yet  he  repaired  to  the 
American  camp  and  volunteered  in  the  army  of  Harrison.  His  per 
sonal  bravery  was  proverbial ;  his  skill  and  tact  in  Indian  warfare 
were  well  known ;  and  as  the  frontier  at  that  time  abounded  with 
Indians,  most  of  whom  had  joined  the  British  standard,  the  services 
of  such  an  experienced  Indian-fighter  as  Simon  Kenton  were  highly 
appreciated  by  General  Harrison  and  Governor  Meigs,  each  of  whom 
had  known  him  personally  for  many  years.  His  offer  was  promptly 
accepted,  and  the  command  of  a  regiment  conferred  upon  him. 
While  a  portion  of  the  arm}r  was  stationed  at  Urbana,  a  mutinous 
plan  was  formed  by  some  of  the  militia  to  attack  an  encampment  of 
friendly  Indians,  who,  threatened  by  the  hostile  tribes,  had  been 
invited  to  remove  their  families  within  our  frontier  settlements  for 
protection.  Kenton  remonstrated  against  the  movement,  as  being 
not  only  mutinous,  but  treacherous  and  cowardly.  He  appealed  to 
their  humanity,  and  their  honor  as  soldiers.  He  told  them  that  he 
Had  endured  suffering  and  torture  at  the  hands  of  these  people  again 
and  again,  but  that  was  in  time  of  war  ;  and  now,  when  they  had 
come  to  us  under  promise  of  safety,  he  should  permit  no  treachery 
toward  them.  Finding  the  mutineers  still  bent  on  their  purpose,  he 
took  a  rifle  and  called  on  them  to  proceed,  declaring  that  he  should 
accompany  them  to  the  encampment,  and  shoot  down  the  first  man 
who  attempted  to  molest  it.  Knowing  that  the  veteran  would  keep 
his  promise,  no  one  ventured  to  take  the  lead.  Thus  generous  was 
Kenton  in  times  of  peace  ;  thus  brave  in  times  of  war. 

We  have  said  that  he  secured  enough  land — despite  of  the  entries 
made  after  and  upon  his—to  render  him  independent  for  life  ;  but 
1  17 


18  TALES    AND    TRADITIONS. 

there  were  not  wanting  those,  in  his  latter  days,  base  enough  to 
defraud  the  confiding  and  noble  old  hero  out  of  the  remainder  of 
his  affluence.  In  1828  Congress  granted  him  a  pension,  dating  back 
many  years,  which  afforded  him  an  ample  support  the  remainder  of 
his  life. 

The  records  of  such  lives  as  his  should  be  carefully  preserved,  that 
the  luxurious  and  effeminate  young  men  of  to-day,  and  those  of  the 
future,  may  know  by  what  courage  and  hardships  their  ease  has 
been  secured  to  them. 


MURPHY  SAVING  THE  FORT. 

SUDDENLY,  through  the  clear  stillness  of  an  autumn  morning 
rung  out  the  three  rapid  reports  of  an  alarm-gun,  which  had  been 
agreed  upon  by  the  three  frontier  forts  defending  the  valley  of  the 
Schoharie,  as  a  signal  of  danger.  The  faint  flush  in  the  eastern  sky 
was  as  yet  not  strong  enough  to  tinge  the  white  frost  glittering  over 
leaf  and  grass;  the  deep  repose  of  earliest  dawn  rested  over  all 
things  in  that  beautiful  vale  ;  but  as  the  thunder  of  that  alarm-gun 
rolled  sullenly  along  the  air,  every  eye  unclosed,  every  heart  awoke 
from  the  even  pulse  of  sleep  to  the  hurried  beat  of  fear  and  excitement. 

Not  even  the  inhabitants  of  Gettysburg,  nor  the  plundered,  mis 
used  people  of  East  Tennessee,  can  imagine  the  appalling  terrors 
which  beset  our  ancestors  during  those  "  days  which  tried  men's 
souls,"  when  they  fought  for  the  liberties  which  now  we  are  bound 
to  defend  in  all  their  sanctity  against  foes  at  home  or  abroad.  When 
we  recall  the  price  paid  for  our  present  position  in  the  van  of  pro 
gress  and  free  government,  well  may  our  hearts  burn  with  inextin 
guishable  resolve  never  to  give  up  what  was  so  nobly  purchased. 

Pardon  the  reflection,  which  has  nothing  to  do  with  the  story  we 
have  to  tell  of  TIMOTHY  MURPHY,  THE  CELEBRATED  RIFLEMAN  OF 
MORGAN'S  CORPS.  Only  this  we  must  say :  our  English  neighbors, 
who  are  so  much  shocked  at  the  way  we  have  managed  our  civil 
war,  ought  to  turn  back  to  that  disgraceful  page  of  their  history 
18 


MURPHY    SAVING   THE    FORT.  19 

whereon  is  written  the  hideous  record  of  Indian  barbarities  which 
they  employed  against  us — against  our  women  and  children,  our  fire 
sides,  our  innocent  babes  ! 

The  signal  was  fired  by  the  upper  fort ;  but  when  those  of  the 
middle  fort  sprung  to  the  ramparts  to  ascertain  the  cause  of  alarm, 
they  found  their  own  walls  completely  invested.  A  combined  force 
of  British  troops,  Hessian  hirelings  and  tories,  with  a  body  of  Indians 
of  the  Six  Nations,  under  their  war-chief,  Joseph  Brant— the  whole 
under  the  command  of  Sir  John  Johnson — passing  the  first  fort 
unobserved,  had  entered  the  valley.  After  the  usual  manner  of 
their  warfare,  the  work  of  destruction  upon  peaceable  inhabitants 
immediately  commenced.  Farm-houses  were  in  flames ;  women  and 
children,  who  ran  from  them,  found  refuge  only  in  the  tortures  ot 
the  savages  waiting  without ;  barns,  filled  with  the  plenty  of  autumn, 
blazed  up  a  few  moments  with  the  wild  brightness  of  ruin,  and  then 
sunk  back,  a  smoldering  heap,  to  tell  of  poverty  and  famine.  While 
this  cruel  work  was  progressing,  a  column  of  the  enemy,  with  two 
small  mortars  and  a  field-piece  called  a  "  grasshopper," — from  being 
mounted  upon  legs  instead  of  wheels— was  sent  to  occupy  a  height 
which  commanded  the  middle  fort.  This,  with  its  little  garrison  of 
about  two  hundred  men,  was  surrounded,  and  lay  completely  under 
the  enemy's  fire. 

Under  these  circumstances  the  men  turned  to  their  commander 
for  instructions.  Unfortunately,  Major  Woolsey  was  a  fallen  star 
amid  that  glorious  galaxy  to  which  we  look  back  with  such  pride — 
he  was  that  pitiable  object  at  which  women  blush — a  coward  in 
epaulettes!  Where  was  he  in  the  emergency  which  ought  to  have 
called  forth  all  his  powers  ?  "  Among  the  women  and  children  in  a 
house  of  the  fort !"  says  the  historian,  but  the  narrator  does  not 
inform  us  whether  or  not  the  Major  absolutely  begged  the  shelter 
of  their  skirts !  And,  "  when  driven  out  by  the  ridicule  of  his  asso 
ciates,  he  crawled  around  the  intrenchments  upon  his  hands  and 
knees."  There  was  one  way  in  which  this  incident  was  of  service 
to  the  troops  who  awaited  the  orders  of  their  commander.  The 
Major's  cowardice  was  so  utterly  ridiculous  that  the  jeers  and 
laughter  it  called  forth  restored  courage  to  the  men,  who  had  been 

so  suddenly  surprised  as  to  be  at  first  disheartened. 

19 


20  TALE8   AND   TKADITIONS. 

Among  HIPP"  who  shook  with  mingled  wrath  and  mughter  at  sight 
of  the  impotence  of  their  leader  was  Murphy.  At  the  first  note  of 
danger  he  had  sprung  to  the  ramparts,  his  unerring  rifle  in  hand, 
his  bright  eye  flashing  fire.  He  should  have  been  in  the  Major's 
place.  It  is  i^'n  like  him  who  electrify  their  comrades  with  the 
thrilling  enthusiasm  and  reliance  of  their  own  courage — men  who 
know  not  fear,  who  think  nothing  of  themselves  and  all  of  their 
cause— cool,  prompt,  ready  for  any  emergency.  He  should  have 
been  the  leader:  but  he  was  only  a  militiaman,  whose  term  of  serv 
ice  had  expired  at  that,  and  who  was  "  fighting  on  his  own  account." 
But  he  could  not  brook  the  disgrace  of  such  leadership ;  when  the 
commander  of  'he  fort  went  creeping  about  on  his  hands,  the  militia 
man  felt  that  it  was  time  to  take  the  reins  in  his  own  grasp,  and  he 
did  it.  Implicit  obedience  from  the  soldier  to  the  officer  is  a 
necessity ;  but  there  are  exceptions  to  all  roles,  and  this  was  one  of 
them  ;  to  be  r  itinous  then  was  to  be  true  to  duty  and  to  honor. 
Deeming  the  fort  their  own,  the  enemy  sent  out  an  officer  with  a 
flag  of  truce.  As  soon  as  he  came  in  sight,  the  relieved  Major  got 
off  his  knees,  commanding  his  men  to  cease  all  firing.  Now  it  was 
that  this  jusliuable  mutiny  ensued.  Murphy,  from  his  position  on 
the  ramparts,  answered  to  the  flag,  warning  it  away,  threatening  in 
event  of  its  closer  approach  to  fire  upon  it.  This  remarkable  assump 
tion  of  author' ty  confounded  all  within  the  fort.  He  was  ordered 
by  the  officers  of  the  regular  troops  to  forbear,  but  the  militiamen, 
whose  hero  he  was,  cheered  him,  and  swore  he  should  have  his 
way.  Thus  supported,  as  soon  as  the  flag  of  truce  came  within 
range,  he  fire'"  purposely  missing  the  messenger  who  bore  it,  when 
the  flag  quickly  retired.  This  "  outrage  "  at  once  closed  all  avenues 
to  a  peaceful  surrender.  The  enemy's  artillery  opened  upon  the 
fort.  A  continual  fusilade  was  kept  up  by  the  mortars,  the  grass 
hopper,  and  ti.e  rifles  of  the  Indians,  fortunately  with  little  effect. 
Many  an  Indian,  who  considered  himself  at  a  prudent  distance,  bit 
the  dust,  as  the  smoke  cleared  away  from  the  busy  rifle  of  Timothy 
Murphy.  Ho'ir  after  hour  the  attack  continued.  A  number  of 
shells  were  thrown,  but  only  two  of  them  fell  inside  the  walls ;  one 
of  these  pierced  the  house  within  the  palisades,  and  descending  to 
the  first  story,  smothered  itself  in  a  feather-bed,  without  doing  any 
20 


MURPHY    SAVING   THE   FOTIT.  21 

fatal  injury.  The  gallant  Major  commanding  should  have  been 
ensconced  for  safety  in  those  feathers !  The  other  shell  set  fire  to 
the  roof,  which  was  saved  from  destruction  by  a  pail  of  water  carried 
by  the  intrepid  Philip  Graft,  the  sentinel  who  had  first  discovered 
the  approach  of  the  British  troops. 

Many  exciting  events  occurred  during  that  long  forenoon.  A 
large  barn,  filled  with  grain,  and  surrounded  by  several  stacks  of 
wheat,  stood  a  few  hundred  feet  from  the  fort.  It  was  several  times 
set  on  fire.  As  it  was  important  to  save  its  contents,  Lieutenant 
Spencer,  with  his  band  of  forty  men,  sallied  out  on  each  occasion, 
and  extinguished  the  flames.  This  heroic  party  also  made  sorties, 
whenever  the  enemy  approached  too  near  the  fort,  which  could  not 
be  properly  protected,  owing  to  a  short  supply  of  ammunition. 

Now  it  was,  also,  that  the  courage  of  women — which  the  annals 
of  the  Revolution  set  forth  in  such  noble  luster — shone  resplendent 
above  the  craven  fear  of  the  commander.  Some  A  the  women 
armed  themselves,  avowing  their  determination  to  aid  in  the  defense, 
should  the  attack  reach  the  walls.  The  supply  of  water  threatening 
to  give  out,  a  soldier  was  ordered  to  bring  some  from  a  well  outside 
the  works.  He  turned  pale  and  stood  trembling  in  his  shoes, 
between  the  double  danger  of  disobedience  and  exposure  to  the 
enemy's  fire. 

"  Give  the  bucket  to  me !"  cried  a  girl,  not  over  n'^oteen  years  of 
age,  her  red  lip  curling  slightly  with  scorn,  as  she  took  the  bucket 
from  his  yielding  hand,  and  went  forth  after  the  much-needed  neces 
sary  of  life. 

A  shout  of  enthusiasm  broke  from  the  spectators.  With  a  smile 
on  her  face  and  a  clear  luster  in  her  eyes,  inspiriting  to  see,  she  went 
out  on  her  dangerous  journey.  Without  the  least  appearance  of 
trepidation,  she  filled  her  bucket  and  returned,  passing  within  range 
of  the  enemy's  fire.  This  errand  she  performed  several  times  in 
safety. 

All  this  time  the  rifle  of  Murphy  was  doing  its  appointed  work. 
In  the  course  of  the  forenoon  he  saw  a  second  flag  Approaching  to 
demand  the  surrender  of  the  fort.  Seeing  him  preparing  to  salute 
it  as  he  had  the  former,  Major  Woolsey  ordered  the  independent 
rifleman  from  the  ramparts. 

21 


23  TALES    AND    TRADITIONS. 

"  I  shan't  come  down,"  said  the  sturdy  patriot.  "  I'm  going  to 
fire  on  that  white  rag." 

"  Then  I  shall  be  obliged  to  kill  you  on  the  spot,"  said  the  Major, 
drawing  his  sword,  and  making  a  flourish. 

Murphy  only  took  one  eye  from  the  advancing  flag  ;  his  weapon 
was  sighted ;  he  was  not  sufficiently  alarmed  by  this  threat  to  lose 
its  position. 

"  Kill  away,  Major,  if  you  think  best.  It  won't  better  your  situ 
ation  much.  I  know  you,  and  what  you  will  do.  You  will  surren 
der  this  fort.  Yes,  sir;  in  the  hopes  of  saving  your  miserable  skin, 
you'll  surrender  !  But  you  won't  even  save  your  own  carcass.  You 
can  believe  what  I  tell  you.  I  know  them  troops  out  thar,  and 
their  way  of  fightin'.  You  won't  make  nothing  by  surrendering  to 
them,  and  Tiin  Murphy,  for  one,  ain't  going  to  surrender.  No, 
sir!" 

Again  the  gallant  militiamen  applauded  his  sentiments,  which  were 
no  sooner  uttered  than  the  rifleman  discharged  his  piece  at  the  ap 
proaching  officer,  missing  him,  as  before,  purposely.  Of  course,  at 
this,  hostilities  were  renewed ;  but,  as  the  rifleman  said,  he  knew 
which  of  two  dangers  was  most  to  be  dreaded;  and,  if  he  must 
perish,  he  preferred  to  die  in  defense  of  what  had  been  intrusted  to 
them  rather  than  to  be  smote  down  after  the  humiliation  of  a  sur 
render  by  murderers  who  respected  none  of  the  laws  of  war.  It  is 
true,  that,  to  fire  upon  a  flag  of  truce,  was  a  breach  of  military 
usage,  and,  in  almost  any  circumstances,  inexcusable  ;  but  not  so 
now,  when  the  garrison  would  only  meet  with  the  most  fatal 
treachery  as  the  result  of  any  interview.  The  officers  of  the  regu 
lars,  however,  did  not  so  regard  the  affair.  Brought  up  under  the 
stern  discipline  of  military  rule,  they  took  sides  with  the  Major, 
and  expostulated  with  Murphy  upon  his  unwarrantable  violation  of 
the  laws  of  war. 

"  Don't  talk,"  he  cried,  impatiently.  "  Jest  come  up  here  and 
take  a  look  at  the  smoke  arising  from  the  homes  of  defenseless  citi 
zens.  Take  a  look  at  the  red-skins  dancing  around  'em,  like  devils 
around  the  fires  of  hell.  Hear  the  screams  of  them  women  and 
children  they  are  murderin'  in  cold  blood.  By  the  God  above,  if  I 
could  get  at  them  fiends,  I'd  stop  that  music  !"  His  teeth  were 
22 


MURPHY    SAVING    THE    FORT.  23 

firmly  set ;  his  face  hardened  ;  his  eyes  shone  like  two  coals  of  fire  ; 
and,  disdaining  to  argue  his  point  at  a  moment  like  that,  he  settled 
his  weapon  for  the  next  victim  who  should  venture  within  range. 

The  garrison  could  indeed  hear,  in  the  intervals  of  the  cannon's 
silence,  the  shrieks  of  helpless  families  smote  down  by  the  tomahawk. 

"  Do  you  hear  it  ?"  he  cried  again,  as  the  shrill  cry  of  a  female 
voice  pierced  the  air.  "  That's  the  kind  of  enemy  you've  got  to 
deal  with,  and  there  you  stand,  balancing,  yourselves  on  a  p'int  of 
law!  If  you  open  your  gates  and  lay  down  your  arms,  you,  nor 
your  wives  and  children,  won't  meet  any  better  fate.  If  you  want 
to  be  tortured  by  red-skins,  and  your  families  given  up  to  their  devil 
ment,  let  'em  in,  let  'em  in  !  /  shan't  have  a  hand  in  it." 

The  signs  of  a  final  charge  about  to  be  given  allowed  no  time  for 
further  argument.  Sir  John,  drawing  np  his  regular  troops  in  the 
rear  of  a  frame  building  standing  near  the  fort,  prepared  for  an 
assault,  while  the  garrison  within  made  what  readiness  they  could 
to  repel  it.  The  women,  knowing  how  little  they  had  to  expect  if 
the  place  fell,  grasped  the  weapons  they  had  solicited  and  took  their 
stations  near  the  men,  resolved  to  deal  such  blows  as  they  could  in 
self-defense.  With  pale  cheeks,  but  hearts  that  had  outgrown  their 
natural  timidity,  they  awaited  the  expected  blow. 

At  this  moment  of  peril  and  suspense,  for  the  third  time  a  flag  of 
truce  was  seen  approaching  Fort  Hunter.  Again  the  undaunted 
Murphy  prepared  to  fire  upon  it  ;  but  this  time,  made  desperate  by 
his  very  cowardice,  Major  Woolsey  commanded  his  soldiers  to  arrest 
the  disobedient  rifleman.  The  militia,  however,  gathered  around 
their  hero,  threatening  any  and  all  who  should  molest  him  ;  they 
had  confidence  that  the  judgment  of  one  so  brave  was  superior  to 
that  of  the  officer  who  had  shown  himself  so  unfit  for  his  position. 
In  the  mean  time,  precious  time  was  being  lost.  In  a  moment  more 
Murphy  would  enrage  the  foe  by  again  insulting  their  flag.  The 
commander  ordered  a  white  flag  to  be  shown.  A  handkerchief  was 
placed  on  a  staff  and  a  soldier  ordered  to  display  it. 

"  The  man  who  dares  attempt  it  will  be  shot  down  by  my  own 
rifle,"  thundered  the  inexorable  militiaman,  who  thus  braved  the 
regular  authority.  The  men  knew  that  he  meant  what  he  said,  and 
not  one  was  found  to  attempt  to  execute  the  order  of  Woolsey. 


24  TALES    AND    TRADITIONS. 

"  Wlic^coinmands  here,  you  or  I  ?"  shouted  the  enraged  Major. 

"  I  reckon  /  do,  as  fur  as  not  givin'  up  goes,"  was  the  cool  answer. 

At  this  crisis,  Captain  lleghtmeyer,  of  the  militia,  feeling  that  their 
commander  was  about  to  betray  them  all,  took  up  his  station  by 
the  rifleman  and  ordered  him  to  lire. 

Exasperated  by  such  contumacy,  Woolsey  drew  his  sword  upon 
the  Captain,  threatening  to  cut  him  down  unless  his  orders  were 
obeyed.  It  was  a  strange  time  for  persons  associated  in  such  immi 
nent  peril  to  fall  out  among  themselves;  but  the  brave  and  un 
flinching  were  not  disposed  to  yield  their  fate  into  the  hands  of  the 
weak  and  vacillating.  Captain  Reghtmeyer,  in  answer  to  this  threat, 
clubbed  his  gun,  and  awaited  the  attack  of  the  Major,  resolved  to 
dash  out  his  brains  if  he  assaulted  him  ;  whereupon  that  officer, 
thinking  in  this,  as  in  other  cases,  that  discretion  was  the  better 
part  of  valor,  subsided  into  silence. 

The  flag-officer  of  the  enemy,  as  soon  as  he  came  within  range, 
seeing  Murphy  bring  his  rifle  to  his  shoulder,  immediately  turned 
and  ran  back;  he  had  no  mind  to  encounter  the  sharp  warning 
which  had  been  given  his  predecessors. 

Then  followed  a  moment  of  suspense.  The  little  garrison  expected 
nothing  better  than  an  angry  and  overwhelming  assault ;  the  men 
breathed  heavily,  grasping  their  muskets  sternly,  while  the  women's 
faces  grew  like  those  of  their  fathers  and  husbands,  settling  into  the 
firm  lines  of  resolve.  Moment  after  moment  crept  away ;  a  half- 
hour  sped,  and  yet  the  roar  of  artillery  and  the  nearer  shouts  of  the 
expected  assailants  were  not  heard. 

"  You  needn't  give  yourself  no  further  oneasiness,  Major,"  at 
length  spoke  the  gallant  Murphy,  contempt  mingling  with  relief  and 
joy  in  his  voice.  He  had  kept  his  gaze  fixed  upon  the  movements 
of  the  enemy,  and  now  perceived  that  they  were  retiring.  "  The 
red-coats  and  red-skins  are  takin'  themselves  off.  It's  jest  as  I  told 
you— the  spunk  we've  shown  makes  'em  think  us  stronger  than  we 
are,  and  they've  made  up  their  minds  to  back  out." 

And  so,  indeed,  it  proved  !     "  The  spunk  we've  shown  "  Murphy 

modestly  said ;  which  was  really  the  spunk  he  had  shown.     His 

courage  and  persistence  saved   Fort  Hunter.     The  British  officers 

naturally  supposed  their  flag  of  truce  would  not  be  three  times  fired 

24 


MURPHY    SAVING   THE    FORT.  27 

upon  unless  that  fort  was  to  be  defended  to  the  death.     They  there 
fore  decided  to  withdraw,  and  to  abandon  the  attempt  for  its  capture. 

Thus  was  the  fort,  with  all  its  precious  lives,  preserved  by  the 
tact  as  well  as  the  determination  of  a  single  man.  However  cha 
grined  the  "  gallant "  Major  may  have  been  at  the  flagrant  disobe 
dience  of  an  inferior,  the  results  were  such  as  to  nullify  the  conse 
quences  of  his  anger.  The  fact  that  the  fort  was  saved  was  th-i 
mutineer's  justification. 

This  affair  occurred  in  1780.  It  was  not  the  first  gallant  exploit 
of  our  hero — nor  the  last.  He  had  already  made  himself  famous  by 
deeds  both  of  daring,  dashing  boldness,  and  deliberate  courage. 

Three  years  before  the  attack  on  Fort  Hunter,  at  the  battle  of 
Stillwater  in  1777,  he  had  killed  the  British  General,  Frazer,  by  a 
ball  from  his  unerring  rifle.  This  is  the  first  record  wre  have  of 
him ;  but  after  that  many  instances  were  noted  of  his  extraordinary 
prowess,  and  many  more,  doubtless,  of  equal  interest,  never  have 
received  a  chronicle.  He  had  a  peculiar  hatred  of  the  Indians, 
called  forth  by  the  many  proofs  of  their  treachery  and  cruelty.  He 
was  a  valuable  acquisition  to  any  party  of  scouts  who  might  be  out 
after  the  red-skins ;  and  many  were  the  marvelous  escapes  he  had. 

As  an  instance  of  that  obstinacy  of  his  character  exhibited  in  his 
conduct  at  the  attack  upon  Fort  Hunter,  we  must  give  the  reader  an 
account  of  another  and  quite  different  circumstance,  in  which  he  dis 
played  the  same  determination  to  have  his  own  way— and  in  which 
he  had  it !  This  little  episode  in  the  life  of  the  celebrated  rifleman 
is  not  only  interesting  in  itself,  but  also  as  showing  under  what  dif 
ficulties  the  little  GOD  OF  LOVE  will  struggle  and  triumph. 

"  Love  rules  the  court,  the  camp,  the  grove  :" 

and  not  the  fiery  sword  of  Mars  himself  can  frighten  him  from  his 
universal  throne. 

After  the  attack  upon  Fort  Hunter,  Murphy,  although  his  period 
of  enlistment  had  expired,  still  remained  with  the  garrison.  It  was 
not  long  after  this  that  something  besides  duty  to  his  country  began 
to  bind  him  to  the  valley  of  the  Schoharie.  The  heart  which  had 
never  quailed  before  an  Indian  or  red-coat,  was  brought  low  by  a 
shaft  from  the  bright  eyes  of  a  maiden  of  sixteen ! 

Not  far  from  the  fort  dwelt  a  family  by  the  name  of  Feeck,  whose 

27 


28  TALES   AND    TRADITIONS. 

home  bad  escaped  destruction  from  the  advcut  of  the  enemy.  Their 
daughter  Margaret  was  a  spirited  and  handsome  girl,  in  whose  dark 
blue  eyes  laughed  mischief  and  tenderness  combined ;  her  auburn 
hair  shaded  cheeks  rosy  with  health ;  her  form  was  just  rounding 
into  the  fullness  of  maidenhood,  with  a  grace  all  its  own,  acquired 
from  the  fresh  air  and  bountiful  exercise  to  which  she  was  accus 
tomed.  The  historian  does  not  tell  us  how  the  first  meeting  occurred, 
but  certain  it  is  that  the  indomitable  heart  of  the  rifleman  was  con 
quered  at  last.  Murphy  was  then  twenty-eight  years  of  age  and 
Margaret  but  sixteen.  There  is  something  in  the  nature  of  a  woman 
which  does  homage  to  bravery  in  a  man.  The  man  who  has  the 
reputation  of  cowardice  may  be  handsome  and  elegant,  but  slie  will 
despise  him  ;  he  alone  who  is  famous  for  courage  commands  woman's 
full  respect  and  low.  When  the  invincible  rifleman,  whose  iron 
nerves  shrunk  from  no  exposure,  and  whose  energy  was  daunted  by 
no  difficulties,  betrayed  to  the  young  girl,  by  his  faltering  manner  in 
her  presence,  that  she  could  do  what  armies  could  not — confuse  and 
master  him — her  breast  thrilled  with  pride  and  delight.  The  dis 
parity  of  their  ages  was  nothing  to  her ;  she  felt  honored  at  being 
the  choice  of  a  brave  man ;  her  timid  glance,  usually  so  mischiev 
ous,  encouraged  him  to  speak,  and  when  he  did  he  was  not  rejected. 
Whether  it  was  that  Margaret's  parents  thought  her  too  young,  or 
that  there  was  too  great  a  disciepancy  in  their  ages,  or  that  they  had 
sonic  prejudice  against  Murphy,  we  are  not  advised  ;  but  they  stren 
uously  opposed  the  intimacy,  forbidding  the  lover  to  enter  their 
house.  Then  it  was  that  he  again  questioned  the  authority  of  the 
ruling  powers.  It  was  not  in  his  nature  to  submit  to  this  arbitrary 
decree.  As  once  before  he  had  "  had  his  own  way  "  in  defiance  of 
superiors,  he  was  resolved  to  have  it  now.  He  loved  the  maiden 
and  she  him ;  there  was  none  who  should  keep  them  apart.  When 
he  made  a  resolution  it  might  be  considered  as  carried  out.  Mar 
garet,  drooping  about  the  house,  doing  her  work  listlessly,  instead  of 
with  joyous  singing,  received  a  communication  which  brought  back 
the  roses  to  her  cheeks  in  fuller  bloom  than  ever.  A  faithful  friend 
of  Murphy,  living  not  far  from  the  Feeck  family,  on  the  Schoharie 
creek,  was  the  person  who  wrought  this  change  in  the  young  girl. 
During  a  visit  to  the  parents,  he  contrived  to  arrange  a  meeting  at 
28 


MURPHY    SAVING    THE    FOIIT.  20 

his  own  house  with  her  lover.  Thither  she  went  one  day  on  a  pre 
tended  errand,  and  found  her  lover  awaiting  her.  During  the  inter 
view  a  plan  was  arranged  for  eluding  the  vigilance  of  her  parents 
and  consummating  their  happiness  by  marriage. 

There  was  some  difficulty  about  this,  for  her  father  and  mother 
had  instituted  a  close  surveillance  over  all  the  "  coming  and  going." 
Margaret  herself,  though  willing,  was  timid,  shrinking  from  the  dan 
ger  of  detection  and  the  anger  of  her  parents. 

"  Pshaw  !"  said  Murphy,  squeezing  the  hand  he  held  in  his  own 
broad  palm,  "it's  likely  I  can't  take  care  of  you,  Maggie!  I've 
trailed  too  many  Injuns,  and  dodged  too  many  bullets,  to  think  much 
of  carrying  off  my  girl  when  I  want  her.  Jest  you  be  on  the  spot, 
and  leave  the  rest  to  me." 

She  promised,  and  they  separated  to  wait  impatiently  for  the  ap 
pointed  evening.  When  it  came,  Margaret,  under  pretense  of  going 
to  milk,  some  distance  from  the  house,  stole  away  from  home  to 
meet  her  intended  husband.  She  dared  not  make  the  least  change 
in  her  apparel,  lest  suspicion  should  be  excited ;  and  when  she  made 
her  appearance  at  the  appointed  spot,  she  presented  but  little  of  the 
usual  semblance  of  an  expectant  bride.  She  was  barefoot  and  bare 
headed,  and  wore  the  short  gown  and  petticoat,  so  much  the  vogue 
among  females  of  that  day  as  a  morning  or  working-dress ;  but  be 
neath  the  humble  garb  beat  a  true  and  ingenuous  heart,  worth  more 
than  outward  trappings  to  any  man.  The  form,  arrayed  in  home 
spun,  was  of  a  blooming  and  substantial  beauty,  which  needed  not 
the  "  foreign  aid  of  ornament." 

She  was  first  at  the  place  of  rendezvous,  where  she  waited  with 
fear  and  impatience  for  her  lover,  but  no  lover  came.  Twilight  was 
fast  fading  into  darkness,  and  yet  he  came  not.  From  her  little 
nook  of  concealment,  behind  a  clump  of  alders  which  grew  on  a 
bend  of  the  stream,  out  of  sight  of  her  home,  she  strained  her  eyes 
to  look  for  the  approaching  form,  which  still  came  not.  The  pink 
tinge  which  flushed  the  silver  water  died  off  into  the  gray  of  even 
ing  ;  every  moment  she  expected  to  hear  the  stern  voice  of  her  father 
calling  her.  What  should  she  do  ?  It  would  not  answer  to  return 
home,  for  she  already  had  been  gone  too  long.  The  cow  had  not 
been  milked,  and  if  she  went  back  now,  her  unusual  absence  must 


30  TALES   AND   TRADITIONS. 

excite  suspicions,  which  would  prevent  a  future  meeting  with  her 
lover.  This  was  her  greatest  dread.  She  had  dwelt  on  their  union 
too  fondly  to  endure  the  return  now  to  a  hopeless  separation. 

Margaret  was  not  long  in  making  up  her  mind  what  course  to 
pursue.  Since  Murphy  had  not  come  to  her  she  would  go  to  him ! 
She  knew  him  brave  and  honorable,  and  that  some  important  mat 
ter  must  have  kept  him  from  the  tryst.  In  order  to  reach  the  fort 
she  was  obliged  to  ford  the  stream.  About  this  she  had  no  squeam- 
ishness,  as  she  had  performed  the  feat  one  hundred  times  before ; 
the  stream  was  shallow  and  not  very  wide.  Evidently  she  was  for 
tunate  in  not  being  troubled  with  shoes  and  stockings  in  the  present 
emergency ;  it  did  not  trouble  her  much  to  hold  up  her  short  skirts 
from  the  water  into  which  she  waded  ;  and,  as  her  little  feet  felt 
their  cautious  way  across  the  creek,  no  doubt  she  looked  as  pretty  to 
her  lover,  in  her  attitudes  of  unconscious  grace,  as  other  brides  have 
done  under  more  fortunate  circumstances ;  for  Murphy  saw  the 
whole  proceeding  with  a  pleased  eye,  taking  her  advance  as  a  proof 
both  of  her  love  for,  and  faith  in,  himself.  He  had  been  detained 
at  the  fort  by  some  provoking  duties,  and  had  ridden  up  to  the 
brook  just  as  Margaret  began  to  cross. 

Although  in  her  heart  she  felt  inwardly  relieved  to  find  him  there, 
the  maiden  began  to  pout  at  his  tardiness,  and  to  regret  that  she 
had  taken  a  step  beyond  the  trysting-place  to  meet  a  lover  who 
would  not  take  the  trouble  to  be  punctual  to  an  appointment  like  this. 

"I  shall  go  home  again,  Tim,"  she  cried,  concealing  her  blushes 
under  a  frown,  which,  though  pretty,  was  not  at  all  frightful. 

"  Not  to-night,  Maggie,"  he  said, "as,  lifting  her  up  behind  him, 
he  sped  away  to  the  fort. 

Murphy  was  a  general  favorite  among  the  garrison  ;  not  an  indi 
vidual  there  who  would  not  willingly  have  aided  and  assisted  him  in 
his  nuptial  enterprise.  His  plans  were  well  known;  and,  as  the 
happy  couple  rode  in  at  the  gate,  lighted  by  the  last  lingering  gleam 
of  sunset  in  the  west,  they  were  received  with  three  hearty  cheers. 
The  circumstances  were  such  as  to  call  forth  the  warmest  interest 
of  the  female  part  of  the  population.  The  young  maiden  was  taken 
in  charge  by  them.  As  there  was  no  minister  to  perform  the  cere 
mony  of  marriage,  the  couple  would  be  obliged  to  take  a  trip  to 
30 


MURPHY   SAVING   THE   FORT.  31 

Schenectady,  twenty-five  miles  distant.  The  evening  was  spent  in 
preparation.  Various  choice  articles  of  apparel  and  ornament,  some 
of  whicu,  doubtless,  had  served  a  similar  purpose  on  former  occa 
sions,  v  ere  brought  forth;  all  went  to  work  with  a  will  to  fit  out 
this  impromptu  bridal  trousseau.  By  morning  every  thing  was  in 
readiners  except  the  proper  dress.  This,  Murphy  decided  to  pro 
cure  in  Schenectady. 

As  time  was  precious  they  started  at  dawn,  and  made  the  whole 
distance  in  four  hours.  A  handsome  silk  dress  was  here  purchased 
and  placed  in  the  hands  of  a  dressmaker  and  some  friends,  who 
perform  .>d  wonders  which  would  astonish  a  modiste  of  to-day  :  they 
completed  the  dress  in  the  course  of  the  afternoon  !  The  couple 
stopped  at  the  house  of  friends,  who  did  all  they  could  to  assist  in 
the  pleasant  project.  Before  dark  the  bride  was  arrayed  in  a  man 
ner  becoming  the  important  occasion.  A  gay  company,  composed 
of  some  of  their  acquaintances,  accompanied  the  happy  pair  to  the 
residence  of  the  Rev.  Mr.  Johnson,  where  the  solemn  ceremony 
which  united  their  lives  in  one  was  performed  ;  after  which  they 
returnee  to  the  house  of  their  friends  to  spend  the  wedding-night. 

We  are  afraid  if  some  of  the  dainty  belles  of  the  present  day  had 
to  accomplish  as  much  in  one  day  as  had  been  done  by  this  bride, 
before  fiey  could  find  themselves  safely  wedded  to  the  object  of 
their  choice,  they  would  shrink  away  dismayed,  and  settle  down  into 
old  maius.  To  run  away  from  home  barefoot ;  to  wade  a  creek ;  to 
ride  into  a  fort  behind  her  lover ;  to  ride  twenty -five  miles  ;  to  buy 
and  make  a  wedding-dress,  and  attire  herself  for  the  ceremony  ;  to  go 
to  the  n  'mister  and  get  married,  all  in  twenty-four  hours,  showed  an 
energy  worthy  of  the  times.  Such  kind  of  women  were  fit  wives 
for  the  men  who  bore  the  perils  ol  the  Revolution,  and  whose 
strength  of  mind  and  heart,  whose  unconquerable  love  of  liberty, 
secured  to  us  our  inheritance. 

On  th  ^ir  return  to  Schoharie,  the  parents  of  the  bride  were  ex 
ceedingly  wroth  at  the  disobedience  of  their  daughter,  and  at  the 
presumption  of  the  daring  rifleman.  For  a  time  they  refused  to  be 
reconciled ;  but,  reflecting  that  no  opposition  could  alter  or  recall  the 
act,  they  at  length  concluded  to  overlook  all  and  receive  the  couple 
to  their  .ove. 

31 


6?  TALES   AND    TRADITIONS. 

The  brave  rifleman  made  a  true  husband.  Margaret,  who  lived 
with  him  happily  for  nearly  thirty  years,  had  no  reason  to  regret 
the  hour  when  she  forded  Schoharie  creek  in  search  of  her  tardy 
lover. ' 

Despite  of  the  eventful  perils  into  which  he  was  always  flinging 
himself,  Murphy  lived  to  see  years  of  peace,  dying  of  cancer  in  the 
throat,  in  1818,  at  the  age  of  sixty-eight.  He  was  an  uneducated 
man  ;  but,  possessed  of  a  strong  will  and  an  amiable  disposition,  he 
exerted  an  unbounded  influence  over  the  minds  of  a  certain  class  of 
men,  who,  like  himself,  were  schooled  in  trial.  His  power  was  that 
of  originality,  independence  and  courage — qualities  which  will  make 
any  man  a  leader  of  the  people  among  whom  he  moves.  Men  of 
his  stamp  were  a  necessity  of  the  times  in  which  they  lived  ;  they 
seemed  to  spring  up  in  the  hour  of  need,  having  patience,  perse 
verance,  endurance  and  boldness  to  cope  with  the  stealthy  and  mur 
derous  foes  who  hung  upon  the  path  of  our  civilization.  They 
deserve  to  be  embalmed  in  the  annals  of  the  country  in  whose  guard 
they  fought. 


BRANT  AND  THE  BOY. 

ONE  bright  summer  morning,  a  lad  by  the  name  of  M'Kown  was 
engaged  in  raking  hay  in  a  field  some  distance  from  any  house,  and 
— as  was  the  custom  with  all  who  labored  abroad  in  those  days  of 
danger  and  sudden  surprise— was  armed  with  a  musket,  which,  how 
ever,  he  had  stood  against  a  tree ;  but  in  the  progress  of  his  work 
had  advanced  beyond  its  immediate  proximity.  While  busily  occu 
pied,  and  intent  upon  his  work,  he  heard  a  slight  jingling  behind 
him,  and  turning  suddenly  around,  he  beheld  an  Indian  within  three 
feet  of  him,  who  bore  in  his  mien  and  costume  the  appearance  of  a 
chief;  and  although  his  position  indicated  peaceful  intentions,  the 
tomahawk  in  his  right  hand  betokened  his  readiness  for  hostilities 
if  occasion  required  it.  Startled  at  this  sudden  and  unexpected 
apparition,  the  youth,  with  a  natural  impulse,  raised  his  rake  to 
82 


BRANT   AND   THE    BOY.  -35 

defend  himself,  thoughtless  of  the  insufficiency  of  his  weapon.     His 
fears  were  dissipated  by  the  Indian,  who  remarked : 

"  Do  not  be  afraid,  young  man  ;  I  shall  not  hurt  you." 

He  then  inquired  of  the  lad  if  he  could  direct  him  to  the  resi 
dence  of  a  noted  loyalist  by  the  name  of  Foster.  Young  M'Kown 
gave  him  the  necessary  directions  to  enable  him  to  find  that  person 
age,  and  then,  emboldened  by  the  apparent  peaceable  intentions  of 
the  other,  asked  him  if  he  knew  Mr.  Foster. 

"  I  am  partially  acquainted  with  him,"  was  the  reply,  "  having 
once  met  him  at  the  half-way  creek." 

The  Indian  then  entered  into  a  familiar  conversation  with  his 
interrogator,  in  the  course  of  which  he  asked  him  his  name,  and  upon 
being  informed,  he  added  : 

"  You  are  a  son,  then,  of  Captain  M'Kown,  who  lives  in  the 
north-east  part  of  the  town,  I  suppose.  I  know  your  father  very 
well ;  he  lives  neighbor  to  Captain  M'Kean.  I  know  M'Kean  very 
well,  and  a  very  fine  fellow  he  is,  too." 

Thus  the  parties  conversed  together  in  a  social  manner  for  some 
time,  until  the  boy— emboldened  by  the  familiarity  which  had  been 
established  between  them— ventured  to  ask  the  Indian  his  name  in 
turn.  This  he  did  not  seem  disposed  to  give  him,  hesitating  for  a 
moment,  but  at  length  replied  : 

"  My  name  is  Brant." 

"  What !  Captain  Brant  ?"   eagerly  demanded  the  youth. 

"  No ;  I  am  a  cousin  of  his,"  replied  the  Indian,  at  the  same  time 
accompanying  his  assertion  with  a  smile  and  expression  of  counte 
nance  which  intimated  his  attempt  to  deceive  his  interlocutor.  It 
was  indeed  the  terrible  Thayendanega  himself,  who  was  associated, 
in  the  mind  of  the  youth,  with  every  possible  trait  of  a  fiend-like 
character;  and  it  is  not  to  be  wondered  at,  that  he  trembled  as  he 
felt  himself  to  be  in  the  presence  of  one  whose  delight,  it  had  been 
represented  to  him,  was  to  revel  in  slaughter  and  bloodshed.  He 
was  somewhat  reassured,  however,  by  the  thought,  that,  if  his  inten 
tions  had  been  hostile  toward  him,  he  could  easily  have  executed 
them  before ;  but  he  did  not  feel  fully  assured  of  his  safety  until  the 
Indian  had  taken  his  departure,  and  he  had  reached  his  home  with 
his  life  and  scalp  intact. 

85 


36  TALES    AND    TRADITIONS. 

This  little  incident  is  but  one  of  many,  told  to  prove  that  Brant 
was  not  the  bloodthirsty  monster  which,  for  many  years  after  the 
Revolution,  he  had  the  reputation  of  being.  He  was  a  Freemason  : 
and  on  several  occasions,  during  the  war,  his  fraternal  feelings  were 
called  into  play,  in  behalf  of  prisoners  who  belonged  to  that  order. 
Among  others  we  are  told  : 

Jonathan  Maynard,  Esq.— afterward  a  member  of  the  Massachu 
setts  Senate — who  was  actively  engaged  in  the  Revolutionary  war, 
was  taken  prisoner  at  one  time  by  a  party  of  Indians  under  the  com 
mand  of  Brant,  The  younger  warriors  of  the  party  seemed  disposed 
to  put  him  to  death,  in  accordance  with  their  determination  to 
exterminate  the  whites,  as  agreed  upon  by  the  tories  and  Indians  in 
that  section  of  the  country.  Preparations  had  been  made  to  carry 
out  their  intentions,  when,  having  been  partially  stripped  of  his 
clothing,  Brant  observed  the  emblems  of  Masonry  indelibly  marked 
upon  the  prisoner's  arms,  and  feeling  bound  to  him  by  a  tie  which 
none  but  a  brother  can  appreciate,  he  interposed  his  authority,  saved 
his  life,  and  sent  him  to  Canada,  to  keep  him  out  of  harm's  way  ; 
and  lie  remained  in  durance  for  several  months,  until  exchanged  and 
allowed  to  return  home. 

There  is  another  incident,  where  Brant  met  one  of  his  old  school 
mates  ;  but  where  the  circumstances  of  their  early  intimacy  would 
not  have  interfered  between  the  white  officer  and  death,  had  he  not 
eaved  himself  by  means  of  justifiable  duplicity. 

In  the  month  of  April,  in  1780,  it  was  the  intention  of  Captain 
Brant,  the  Indian  chieftain,  to  make  a  descent  upon  the  upper  fort 
of  Schoharie,  but  which  was  prevented  by  an  unlooked-for  circum 
stance.  Colonel  Vrooman  had  sent  out  a  party  of  scouts  to  pass 
over  to  the  head-waters  of  the  Charlotte  river,  where  resided  certain 
suspected  persons,  whose  movements  it  was  their  duty  to  watch.  It 
being  the  proper  season  for  the  manufacture  of  maple  sugar,  the  men 
were  directed  to  make  a  quantity  of  that  article,  of  which  the  gar 
rison  were  greatly  in  want.  On  the  3d  of  April  this  party,  under 
the  command  of  Captain  Harper,  commenced  their  labors,  which 
they  did  cheerfully,  and  entirely  unapprehensive  of  danger,  as  a  fall 
of  snow,  some  three  feet  deep,  would  prevent,  they  supposed,  the 
moving  of  any  considerable  body  of  the  enemy,  while  in  fact  they 
36 


RllAXT    AND    THE    BOY.  31 

were  not  aware  of  any  body  of  the  armed  foe  short  of  Niagara.  But 
on  the  7th  of  April  they  were  suddenly  surrounded  by  a  party  of 
about  forty  Indians  and  tories,  the  first  knowledge  of  whose  presence 
was  thb  death  of  three  of  their  party.  The  leader  was  instantly 
discovered  in  the  person  of  the  Mohawk  chief,  who  rushed  np  to 
Captain  Harper,  tomahawk  in  hand,  and  observed  :  "  Harper,  I  am 
sorry  to  find  you  here !" 

"Why  are  you  sorry,  Captain  Brant?"  replied  the  other. 

"Because,"  replied  the  chief,  "I  must  kill  you,  although  we  were 
schoolmates  in  our  youth" — at  the  same  time  raising  ids  hatchet,  and 
suiting  the  action  to  the  word.  Suddenly  his  arm  fell,  and  with  a 
piercing  scrutiny,  looking  Harper  full  in  the  face,  he  inquired  :  "  Are 
there  any  regular  troops  in  the  fort  in  Schoharie  ?"  Harper  caught 
the  idea  in  an  instant.  To  answer  truly,  and  admit  there  were  none, 
as  was  the  fact,  would  but  hasten  Brant  and  his  warriors  forward  to 
fall  upon  the  settlements  at  once,  and  their  destruction  would  have 
been  swift  and  sure.  He  therefore  informed  him  that  a  reinforce 
ment  of  three  hundred  Continental  troops  had  arrived  to  garrison  the 
forts  only  two  or  three  days  before.  This  information  appeared  very 
much  to  disconcert  the  chieftain.  He  prevented  the  further  shedding 
of  blood,  and  held  a  consultation  with  his  subordinate  chiefs.  Night 
coming  on,  the  prisoners  were  shut  up  in  a  pen  of  logs,  and  guarded 
by  the  tories,  while  among  the  Indians,  controversy  ran  high  whether 
the  prisoners  should  be  put  to  death  or  carried  to  Niagara.  The 
captives  were  bound  hand  and  foot,  and  were  so  near  the  council 
that  Harper,  who  understood  something  of  the  Indian  tongue, 
could  hear  the  dispute.  The  Indians  were  for  putting  them  to 
death,  but  Brant  exercised  his  authority  to  effectually  prevent  the 
massacre. 

On  the  following  morning  Harper  was  brought  before  the 
Indians  for  examination.  The  chief  commenced  by  saying  that  he 
was  suspicious  he  had  not  told  him  the  truth.  Harper,  however, 
although  Brant  was  e}reing  him  like  a  basilisk,  repeated  his  former 
statements,  without  the  improper  movement  of  a  muscle,  or  any 
betrayal  that  he  was  deceiving.  Brant,  satisfied  of  the  truth  of  the 
story,  resolved  to  retrace  his  steps  to  Niagara.  But  his  warriors 
were  disappointed  in  their  hopes  of  spoils  and  victory,  and  it  was 

37 


38  TALES    AND    TRADITIONS. 

oniy  with  the  greatest  difficulty  that  they  were  prevented  from  put 
ting  the  captives  to  death. 

Their  march  was  forthwith  commenced,  and  was  full  of  pain, 
peril  and  adventure.  They  met  on  the  succeeding  day  with  two 
loyalists,  who  both  disproved  Harper's  story  of  troops  being  at  Scho- 
harie,  and  the  Captain  was  again  subjected  to  a  piercing  scrutiny  ;  but 
he  succeeded  so  well  in  maintaining  the  appearance  of  truth  and 
sincerity  as  to  arrest  the  upraised  and  glittering  tomahawk.  On  the 
same  day  an  aged  man,  named  Brown,  was  accidentally  fallen  in 
with  and  taken  prisoner,  with  two  youthful  grandsons ;  the  day  fol 
lowing,  being  unable  to  travel  with  sufficient  speed,  and  sinking 
under  the  weight  of  the  burden  imposed  upon  him,  the  old  man  was 
put  out  of  the  way  with  the  hatchet.  The  victim  was  dragging 
behind,  and  when  he  saw  preparations  making  for  his  doom,  took  an 
affectionate  farewell  of  his  little  grandsons,  and  the  Indians  moved 
on,  leaving  one  of  their  number  with  his  face  painted  black — the 
mark  of  the  executioner— behind  with  him.  In  a  few  moments 
afterward,  the  Indian  came  up,  with  the  old  man's  scalp  dangling 
from  between  the  ramrod  and  the  muzzle  of  his  gun. 

They  constructed  floats,  and  sailed  down  the  Susquehanna  to 
the  confluence  of  the  Chemuug,  at  which  place  their  land-traveling 
commenced.  Soon  after  this,  a  severe  trial  and  narrow  escape  befell 
the  prisoners.  During  his  march  from  Niagara  on  this  expedition, 
Brant  had  detached  eleven  of  his  warriors,  to  fall  once  more  upon 
the  Minisink  settlement  for  prisoners.  This  detachment,  as  it  subse 
quently  appeared,  had  succeeded  in  taking  captive  five  athletic  men, 
whom  they  secured  and  brought  with  them  as  far  as  Tioga  Point. 
The  Indians  slept  very  soundly,  and  the  five  prisoners  had  resolved, 
on  the  first  opportunity,  to  make  their  escape.  While  encamped  at 
this  place  during  the  night,  one  of  the  Minisink  men  succeeded  in 
extricating  his  hands  from  the  binding  cords,  and  with  the  utmost 
caution,  unloosed  his  four  companions.  The  Indians  were  locked  in 
the  arms  of  deep  sleep  around  them.  Silently,  without  causing  a 
leaf  to  rustle,  they  each  snatched  a  tomahawk  from  the  girdles  of 
their  unconscious  enemies,  and  in  a  moment  nine  of  them  were  quiv 
ering  in  the  agonies  of  death.  The  two  others  were  awakened,  and 
springing  upon  their  feet,  attempted  to  escape.  One  of  them  was 
38 


BRANT    AND    THE    BOY  39 

struck  vvitli  a  hatchet  between  the  shoulders,  but  the  other  fled.  The 
prisoners  immediately  made  good  their  own  retreat,  and  the  only 
Indian  who  escaped  unhurt  returned  to  take  care  of  his  wounded 
companion.  As  Brant  and  his  warriors  approached  this  point  of 
their  journey,  some  of  his  Indians  having  raised  a  whoop,  it  was 
returned  by  a  single  voice,  with  the  death  yell!  Startled  at  this 
unexpected  signal,  Brunt's  warriors  rushed  forward  to  ascertain  the 
cause.  But  they  were  not  long  in  doubt.  The  lone  warrior  met 
them,  and  soon  related  to  his  brethren  the  melancholy  fate  of  his 
companions.  The  effect  upon  the  warriors,  who  gathered  in  a  group 
to  hear  the  recital,  was  inexpressibly  fearful.  Rage,  and  a  desire  of 
revenge,  seemed  to  kindle  every  bosom,  and  light  every  eye  as  with 
burning  coals.  They  gathered  around  the  prisoners  in  a  circle,  and 
began  to  make  unequivocal  preparations  for  hacking  them  to  pieces. 
Harper  and  his  men  of  course  gave  themselves  up  for  lost.  While 
their  knives  were  unsheathing,  and  their  hatchets  glittering,  as  they 
were  flourished  in  the  sunbeams,  the  only  survivor  of  the  murdered 
party  rushed  into  the  circle  and  interposed  in  their  favor.  With  a 
wave  of  the  hand,  as  of  a  warrior  entitled  to  be  heard— for  he  was 
himself  a  chief — silence  was  restored,  and  the  prisoners  were  sur 
prised  by  the  utterance  of  an  earnest  appeal  in  their  behalf.  He 
eloquently  and  impressively  declaimed  in  their  favor,  upon  the  ground 
that  it  was  not  they  who  murdered  their  brothers ;  and  to  take  the 
lives  of  the  innocent  would  not  be  right  in  the  eyes  of  the  Great 
Spirit.  His  appeal  was  effective.  The  passions  of  the  incensed 
warriors  were  hushed,  their  eyes  no  longer  shot  forth  the  burning 
glances  of  revenge,  and  their  gesticulations  ceased  to  menace  imme 
diate  and  bloody  vengeance. 

True,  it  so  happened,  that  this  chief  knew  all  the  prisoners— he 
having  resided  in  the  Schoharie  canton  of  the  Mohawks  during  tl.e 
war.  He  doubtless  felt  a  deeper  interest  in  their  behalf  on  that 
account.  Still,  it  was  a  noble  action,  worthy  of  the  proudest  era  of 
chivalry,  and  in  the  palmy  clays  of  Greece  and  Rome,  would  have 
crowned  him  almost  with  "  an  apotheosis  and  rights  divine."  The 
interposition  of  Pocahontas,  in  favor  of  Captain  Smith,  before  the 
rude  court  of  Powhatan,  was,  perhaps,  more  romantic ;  but  when 
the  motive  which  prompted  the  generous  action  of  the  princess  is 

39 


40  TALKS    AND    TRADITION*. 

considered,  the  transaction  now  under  review  exhibits  the  most  of 
genuine  benevolence.  Pocahontas  was  moved  by  the  tender  passion 
— the  Mohawk  Sachem  by  the  feelings  of  magnanimity,  and  the 
eternal  principles  of  justice.  It  is  a  matter  of  regret  that  the  name 
of  this  high-souled  warrior  is  lost,  as,  alas  !  have  been  too  many  that 
might  serve  to  relieve  the  dark  and  vengeful  portraiture  of  Indian 
character,  which  it  has  so  well  pleased  the  white  man  to  draw  ! 
The  prisoners  themselves  were  so  impressed  with  the  manner  of  their 
signal  deliverance,  that  they  justly  attributed  it  to  a  direct  interposi 
tion  of  Providence. 

After  the  most  acute  sufferings  from  hunger  and  exhaustion,  the 
party  at  last  arrived  at  Niagara.  The  last  night  of  their  journey, 
they  encamped  a  short  distance  from  the  fort.  In  the  morning  the 
prisoners  were  informed  that  they  were  to  run  the  gauntlet,  and 
were  brought  out  where  two  parallel  lines  of  Indians  were  drawn 
up,  between  which  the  prisoners  were  to  pass,  exposed  to  the  whips 
and  blows  of  the  savages.  The  course  to  be  run  was  toward  the 
fort.  Harper  was  the  first  one  selected,  and  at  the  signal,  sprung 
from  the  mark  with  extraordinary  swiftness.  An  Indian  near  the 
end  of  the  line,  fearing  he  might  escape  without  injury,  sprung  before 
him,  but  a  blow  from  Harper's  fist  felled  him ;  the  Indians,  enraged, 
broke  their  ranks  and  rushed  after  him,  as  he  fled  with  the  utmost 
speed  toward  the  fort.  The  garrison,  when  they  saw  Harper  ap 
proaching,  opened  the  gates,  and  he  rushed  in,  only  affording  suffi 
cient  time  for  the  garrison  to  close  the  gates,  ere  the  Indians  rushed 
upon  it,  clamoring  for  the  possession  of  their  victim.  The  other 
prisoners,  taking  advantage  of  the  breaking  up  of  the  Indian  ranks, 
took  different  routes,  and  all  succeeded  in  reaching  the  fort  without 
passing  through  the  terrible  ordeal  which  was  intended  for  them. 

This  was  in  the  April  preceding  the  final  attack  upon  the  fort  in 
the  Schoharie  valley,  which  took  place  in  the  fall,  as  described  in  the 
second  article  of  tl.is  number  ;  and  at  which  Murphy,  the  rifleman, 
so  distinguished  himself. 

As  further  illustrating  this  magnanimity  which — certainly  at  times 
— distinguished  Brant,  it  is  said   that  at  the  horrible  massacre  of 
Cherry  Valley,  Butler — the  tory  Captain,  son  of  the  Butler  who  ful 
filled  liis  hideous  part  in  the  destruction  of  Wyoming — on  entering  a 
40 


BRANT    AND    THE    BOT.  4l 

house,  ordered  a  woman  and  child  to  be  killed  who  were  found  in 
bed.  "  What !"  exclaimed  Brant ;  "  kill  a  woman  and  child  ?  No  ! 
that  child  is  not  an  enemy  to  the  king,  nor  a  friend  to  Congress. 
Long  before  he  will  be  big  enough  to  do  any  mischief,  the  dispute 
will  be  settled." 

The  life  of  Brant  was,  to  say  the  least,  peculiar.  An  Indian,  but 
an  educated  and  traveled  one,  with  much  of  the  tact  of  civilization, 
and  all  the  cunning  and  wild  freedom  of  the  savage,  he  made  a 
character  for  himself  which  always  will  occupy  a  niche  in  history. 
Whether  the  conflicting  statements  in  regard  to  him  ever  will  be  so 
reconciled  as  to  decide  whether  he  was  a  generous  and  humane 
enemy,  or  a  most  subtle  and  ferocious  one,  we  know  not ;  but  this 
is  certain,  he  was  our  enemy,  and  a  most  efficient  ally  of  the  British 
in  their  attempts  to  put  out  the  rising  fires  of  Liberty  which  were 
kindling  in  our  valleys,  over  our  plains,  and  upon  our  hills.  It  was 
a  most  unfortunate  thing  for  the  struggling  colonists  when  Brant 
took  up  the  hatchet  in  behalf  of  the  king,  for  his  arm  was  more  to 
be  dreaded  than  that  of  King  George. 

Joseph  Brant  was  an  Onondaga  of  the  Mohawk  tribe,  whose 
Indian  name  was  Thayendanega — signifying,  literally,  a  brant,  or 
wild-goose.  The  story  that  he  was  but  a  half-Indian,  the  son  of  a 
German,  has  been  widely  spread,  but  is  denied  by  his  son,  and  is 
now  believed  to  be  false.  There  are  those,  however,  whose  opinion 
is  of  weight,  who  assert  that  he  was  the  son  of  Sir  William  Johnson  ; 
and  such,  all  circumstances  considered,  is  most  likely  to  have  been 
the  fact.  He  was  of  a  lighter  complexion  than  his  countrymen  in 
general,  and  there  are  other  evidences  of  his  having  been  a  half-breed. 
He  received  a  very  good  English  education  at  Moore's  charity-school, 
in  Lebanon,  Connecticut,  where  he  was  placed  by  Sir  William  John 
son,  in  July,  1761.  This  General  Sir  William  Johnson  was  British 
agent  of  Indian  affairs,  and  had  greatly  ingratiated  himself  into  the 
esteem  of  the  Six  Nations.  He  lived  at  the  place  since  named  for 
him,  upon  the  north  bank  of  the  Mohawk,  about  forty  miles  from 
Albany.  Here  he  had  an  elegant  country-seat,  at  which  he  often 
would  entertain  several  hundred  of  his  red  friends,  sharing  all  things 
in  common  with  them.  They  so  much  respected  him,  that,  although 

they  had  the  fullest  liberty,  they  would  take  nothing  which  was  not 

41 


43  TALES    AND    TRADITIONS. 

given  to  them.  The  faster  to  rivet  their  esteem,  he  would,  at  certain 
seasons,  accommodate  himself  to  their  mode  of  dress.  He  also,  being 
a  widower,  took  as  a  companion  Molly  Brant,  (a  sister  of  Brant,) 
who  considered  herself  his  wife,  according  to  Indian  custom,  and 
whom  he  finally  married,  to  legitimize  her  children.  He  had 
received  honors  and  emoluments  from  the  British  Government ;  and 
the  Indians,  through  him,  obtained  every  thing  conducive  to  their 
happiness.  Hence,  it  is  not  strange  that  they  should  hold  in  rever 
ence  the  name  of  their  "  great  father,"  the  king ;  and  think  the  few 
rebels  who  opposed  his  authority,  when  the  Revolution  began,  to  be 
inexcusable  and  unworthy  of  mercy. 

Brant,  by  this  time  a  man  in  the  first  flush  of  his  strength,  and 
with  as  good  an  education  as  the  majority  of  his  white  friends,  went 
to  England  in  1775,  in  the  beginning  of  the  great  Revolutionary  rup 
ture,  where  he  was  received  with  attention.  Doubtless  his  mind 
was  there  prepared  for  the  part  he  acted  in  the  memorable  struggle 
which  ensued.  He  had  a  Colonel's  commission  conferred  upon  him 
in  the  English  army  upon  the  frontiers  ;  which  army  consisted  of 
such  lories  and  Indians  as  took  part  against  the  country. 

Upon  his  return  from  England— Sir  William  Johnson  having  died 
the  previous  year — Brant  attached  himself  to  Johnson's  son-in-law, 
Guy  Johnson,  performing  the  part  of  secretary  to  him  when  trans 
acting  business  with  the  Indians.  The  Butlers,  John  and  Walter — 
whose  names,  with  those  of  Brant,  are  associated  with  the  horrid 
barbarities  of  Wyoming  and  Cherry  Valley — lived  not  far  from  the 
village  of  Johnstown,  and  upon  the  same  side  of  the  Mohawk. 

After  the  battle  of  Bunker  Hill,  General  Schuyler  compelled  Guy 
Johnson,  and  his  brother-in-law,  Sir  John.  Johnson,  to  give  their 
word  of  honor  not  to  take  up  arms  against  America  ;  but  this  di<l 
not  prevent  Gu}'  from  withdrawing  into  Canada  and  taking  with  him 
Brant,  with  a  large  body  of  his  Mohawks,  bir  John  also  fled  to 
Canada,  where  he  became  a  powerful  adversary.  The  Butlers  were 
also  in  the  train. 

Here,  having  had  some  disagreement  with  Johnson,  Brant  re 
turned  to  the  frontiers  with  his  band  of  warriors.  Some  of  the 
peaceable  Mohawks  had  been  confined  to  prevent  their  doing  injury, 
as  were  some  of  the  Massachusetts  Indians  in  King  Philip's  war. 
42 


BRANT    AND    THE    BOY.  43 

Braut  was  displeased  at  this.  He  came  with  his  band  to  Unadilla, 
where  he  was  met  by  the  American  General,  Herkimer ;  and  the  two 
had  an  interview,  in  which  Brant  said  that  "  the  king's  belts  were 
yet  lodged  with  them,  and  they  could  not  falsify  their  pledge ;  that 
the  Indians  were  in  concert  with  the  king,"  etc.  It  has  never  been 
explained  why  Herkimer  did  not  then  and  there  destroy  the  power 
of  Brant,  which  he  could  have  done,  for  his  men  numbered  eight 
hundred  and  eighty,  while  Brant  had  but  one  hundred  and  thirty 
warriors.  It  is  supposed  the  American  General  did  not  believe  that 
the  Mohawks  actually  would  take  up  arras  against  the  country.  It 
was  a  fatal  mistake,  which  deluged  hundreds  of  homes  in  blood,  or 
wrapped  them  in  fire. 

Thereafter  followed  a  succession  of  bloody  and  terrible  affairs,  in 
which  Brant  and  the  two  Butlers  were  leaders.  It  has  been  said, 
and  with  truth,  that  of  those  three,  the  white  men  were  the  most 
ferocious ;  that  they  out-Heroded  Herod  ;  that  Brant  often  spared 
where  they  refused.  Out  of  these  isolated  facts  it  is  sought  to  build 
up  a  reputation  for  generosity  and  magnanimity,  to  which  Brant  is 
not  entitled.  Some  moments  of  mercy  he  had  ;  while  those  arch 
fiends,  the  Butlers,  never  relaxed  into  the  weakness  of  mercy ;  but 
the  name  of  Brant,  nevertheless,  is  written  too  redly  in  the  blood  of 
our  ancestors  for  us  ever  to  regard  him  with  other  feelings  than 
those  of  horror  and  dread.  His  knowledge  of  the  detestation  in 
which  the  whites  regarded  the  Indian  modes  of  warfare,  acted  upon 
his  pride;  he  did  not  wish  to*be  classed  with  the  untutored  of  his 
own  race ;  so  that  his  regard  for  appearances  caused  him  frequently 
to  forbear  the  cruelties  which  his  associates  practiced. 

The  first  affair  of  importance  in  which  we  hear  of  him  is  the  bat 
tle  of  Oriskany.  It  was  on  the  6th  of  August,  1777.  Brant  was 
under  the  direction  of  General  St.  Leger,  who  detached  him,  with  a 
considerable  body  of  warriors,  for  the  investment  of  Fort  Stanwix. 
Colonel  Butler  was  commander-in-chief  of  the  expedition,  with  a 
band  of  tories  under  his  immediate  charge.  The  inhabitants  in  the 
valley  of  the  Mohawk  determined  to  march  to  the  assistance  of  the 
fort,  which  they  did  in  two  regiments,  with  General  Herkimer  at 
their  head.  As  is  usual  with  militia,  they  marched  in  great  disorder, 
and  through  the  inadvertence  of  General  Herkimer — who,  influenced 

43 


It  TALK8    AND    TRADITIONS. 

by  sneers  at  his  cowardice  in  taking  such  a  precaution,  failed  to  throw 
forward  scouts  as  he  should  have  done — were  surprised  by  the  In 
dians  as  they  were  crossing  an  almost  impassable  ravine,  upon  a  sin 
gle  track  of  logs.  The  ambush  selected  by  Brant  could  not  have 
been  better  fitted  for  his  purpose.  The  ravine  was  semicircular,  and 
Brant  and  his  forces  occupied  the  surrounding  heights. 

The  first  intimation  of  the  presence  of  the  enemy  was  the  terrify 
ing  yells  of  the  Indians,  and  the  still  more  lasting  impressions  of 
their  rifles.  Running  down  from  every  direction,  they  prevented  the 
two  regiments  from  forming  a  junction — one  of  them  not  having 
entered  the  causeway.  A  part  of  the  assailants  fell  upon  those 
•without,  a  part  upon  those  within.  The  former  fared  worse  than 
the  latter ;  for,  in  such  a  case  a  flight  almost  always  proves  a  dismal 
defeat,  as  was  now  the  case.  The  other  regiment,  hemmed  in  as  it 

was,  saw  that 

"  To  fight,  or  not  to  fight,  was  death." 

They  therefore,  back  to  back,  forming  a  front  in  every  direction, 
fought  like  men  in  despair.  With  such  bravery  did  they  resist,  in 
this  forlorn  condition,  that  the  Indians  began  to  give  way,  and  but 
for  a  reinforcement  of  tories,  they  would  have  been  entirely  dis 
persed.  The  sight  of  this  reinforcement  increased  the  rage  of  the 
Americans.  The  tory  regiment  was  composed  of  the  very  men  who 
had  left  that  part  of  the  country  at  the  beginning  of  the  war,  and 
were  held  in  abhorrence  for  their  loyalty  to  the  king.  Dr.  Gordon 
says  that  the  tories  and  Indians  got  into  a  most  wretched  confusion, 
and  fought  one  another ;  and  that  the  latter,  at  last,  thought  it  was  a 
plot  of  the  whites  to  get  them  into  that  situation,  that  they  might  be 
cut  off.  General  Herkimer  got  forward  an  express  to  the  fort,  when 
he  was  reinforced  as  soon  as  possible,  and  the  remnant  of  his  brave 
band  saved.  He  beat  the  enemy  from  the  ground,  and  carried  con 
siderable  plunder  to  the  fort ;  but  two  hundred  Americans  were  lost, 
and  among  them  the  General  himself,  who  died,  soon  after,  from  the 
effects  of  a  wound  received  at  the  time. 

In   the  early  part  of   the  contest,   General   Herkimer  had  been 
struck  by  a  ball,  which  shattered  his  leg  and  killed  his  horse.     Un 
daunted  by  this  accident,  and  indifferent  to  the  severity  of  the  pain, 
the  brave  old  General  continued  on  his  saddle,  which  was  placed  on 
44 


BRANT    AND    THE   BOY.       .  45 

a  little  hillock,  near  a  tree,  against  which  he  leaned  for  support, 
•while  giving  his  orders  with  the  utmost  coolness,  though  his  men 
fell  in  scores  about  him,  and  his  exposed  position  made  him  a 
mark  for  the  enemy.  Amid  the  clashing  of  weapons,  the  roar  of 
artillery,  and  the  yells  of  the  combatants,  all  mingled  in  wild  confu 
sion,  General  Herkimer  deliberately  took  his  pipe  from  his  pocket, 
lit  it,  and  smoked  with  seeming  composure.  On  being  advised  to 
remove  to  a  place  of  greater  security,  he  said,  "  No  ;  I  will  face  the 
enemy'''  It  is  said  that  Blucher,  at  the  battle  of  Leipsic,  sat  on  a 
hillock,  smoking,  and  issuing  his  orders;  but  Blucher  was  not 
wounded. 

General  Herkimer's  leg  was  amputated  after  the  battle,  but  it  was 
done  so  unskillfully  that  the  flow  of  blood  could  not  be  stopped. 
During  the  operation  he  smoked  and  chatted  in  excellent  spirits ;  and 
when  his  departure  drew  nigh,  he  called  for  a  Bible,  and  read  aloud, 
until  his  failing  strength  compelled  him  to  desist.  Such  is  the  stuff 
of  which  heroes  are  made. 

The  night  which  followed  the  battle  was  one  of  horror  for  the 
prisoners  taken  by  the  enemy.  As  usual,  the  Indians  slaked  their 
thirst  for  blood  and  torture,  which  the  battle  had  awakened,  in  piti 
less  cruelties  upon  their  defenseless  captives.  It  does  not  seem  that 
Brant  here  exercised,  or  caused  to  be  exercised,  any  clemency. 
Some  of  the  doomed  creatures  begged  of  Butler,  the  British  officer, 
to  use  his  influence  with  the  Indians ;  and  to  their  appeals  were 
joined  the  entreaties  of  the  guard— the  lories,  in  whose  breasts  some 
humanity  remained  ;  but  this  fiend,  more  savage  than  the  savages, 
only  cursed  them  for  their  folly  in  pleading  for  "  infernal  rebels." 
All  manner  of  tortures,  including  roasting,  was  practiced  upon  the 
captives,  as  was  testified  to  by  one  of  their  number,  Dr.  Younglove, 
who,  after  enduring  every  thing  but  death,  finally  escaped  from  his 
tormentors. 

In  June  of  the  next  year,  1778,  Brant  came  upon  Springfield, 
which  he  burned,  and  carried  off  a  number  of  prisoners.  The 
women  and  children  were  not  maltreated,  but  were  left  in  one  house 
unmolested.  About  this  time  great  efforts  were  made  to  secure  the 
wary  chief,  but  noue  of  them  were  successful. 

The  next  event  of  importance  in  which  Brant  was  engaged  was 

45 


46  TALES   AND    TRADITIONS. 

the  destruction  of  Wyoming,  that  most  heart-rending  affair  in  all  the 
annals  of  the  Revolutionary  war.  The  events  of  that  awful  massacre, 
the  treachery  of  Butler,  the  ferocity  of  the  savages,  and  the  still  more 
hellish  malignity  of  their  white  allies,  are  known  to  all.  The  wail 
which  then  arose  from  innocent  women  and  helpless  babes,  consumed 
in  one  funeral  pyre,  together,  will  never  die — its  echoes  yet  ring  upon 
the  shuddering  senses  of  each  successive  generation.  Of  late  years 
an  effort  has  been  made  to  prove  that  Brant  was  not  even  present  at 
that  massacre;  but  of  this  there  is  no  proof.  Campbell,  the  author 
of  "  Gertrude  of  Wyoming,"  was  so  worked  upon  by  the  representa 
tions  of  a  son  of  Brant,  who  visited  England  in  1822,  that  lie  recalled 

all  he  said  of 

"  The  foe— the  monster  Brant," 

and  wished  him,  thereafter,  to  be  regarded  as  a  "  purely  fictitious 
character." 

One  thing  is  certain.  Brant  was  at  the  massacre  of  Cherry  Valley, 
•which  settlement,  in  the  November  following  the  destruction  of 
Wyoming,  met  a  fate  nearly  similar.  At  this  terrible  affair  was 
repeated  the  atrocities  of  the  former.  A  tory  boasted  that  he  killed 
a  Mr.  Wells  while  at  prayer.  His  daughter,  a  beautiful  and  estim 
able  young  lady,  fled  from  the  house  to  a  pile  of  wood  for  shelter,  but 
an  Indian  pursued  her;  and  composedly  wiping  his  bloody  knife  on 
his  leggin,  seized  her,  and  while  she  was  begging  for  her  life  in  the 
few  words  of  Indian  which  she  knew,  he  ruthlessly  killed  her.  But 
why  speak  of  one,  where  hundreds  met  a  similar  fate  ?  It  is  said 
that  Brant,  on  this  occasion,  did  exercise  clejnency ;  and  that  he  was 
the  only  one  who  did.  It  was  shortly  after  this  that  Sullivan's  army 
was  organized  to  march  upon  the  Indian  country  and  put  a  stop  to 
such  outrages.  Brant  met  it  and  was  repulsed  and  fled.  It  has 
been  made  a  matter  of  complaint  that  our  forces  destroyed  the  Indian 
villages  and  crops.  But  with  such  wrongs  burning  in  their  breasts, 
who  could  ask  of  them  the  practice  of  extraordinary  generosity 
toward  monsters  who  would  not  respect  nor  return  it  ?  The  same 
complaint  is  made  to-day  against  the  exasperated  Minnesotians,  who 
claim  the  fullest  vengeance  of  the  law  against  the  stealthy  panthers, 
and  worse  than  wild  beasts,  who  have  recently  ravaged  their  State. 
They  ask  it,  and  should  have  it. 
46 


BRANT    AND    THIS    HOY.  47 

Tn  the  spring  of  1780,  Brant  renewed  his  warfare  against  our  set 
tlements.  He  seems,  in  almost  all  cases,  to  have  been  successful, 
uniting,  as  he  did,  the  means  of  civilized  warfare  with  all  the  art 
and  duplicity  of  the  savage. 

In  later  years  Colonel  Brant  exerted  himself  to  preserve  peace 
between  the  whites  and  Indians  ;  and  during  the  important  treaties 
which  were  made  in  1793  he  was  in  favor  of  settling  matters  amicably, 
lie  had  won  from  the  British  Government  all  the  honors  it  was  wil 
ling  to  bestow  upon  a  savage  ally,  and  what  were  they  ?  A  Colonel's 
commission,  with  liberty  to  do  work  for  the  king  which  British  sol 
diers  did  not  care  to  do — the  slaughter  of  women  and  children,  and 
the  sacking  of  villages.  It  is  quite  probable  that,  after  Wayne's 
decisive  castigation  of  the  Indians,  and  British  insolence  had  thereby 
also  received  a  blow,  Brant  retired  from  a  service  which  he  knew 
must  be  worse  than  fruitless. 

Colonel  Brant  was  married,  in  the  winter  of  1779,  to  the  daughter 
of  Colonel  Croghan  by  an  Indian  woman.  He  had  lived  with  her 
some  time,  according  to  the  Indian  manner ;  but  being  present  at 
the  wedding  of  Miss  Moore,  (one  of  the  Cherry  Valley  captives,)  he 
took  a  fancy  to  have  the  "  civilized  "  ceremony  performed  between 
himself  and  his  partner.  King  George  III.  conferred  valuable  lands 
upon  him,  and  he  became  quite  wealthy.  He  owned,  at  one  time, 
thirty  or  forty  negroes,  to  whom  he  was  a  most  brutal  master. 
Brant  professed  to  be  a  great  admirer  of  Greek,  and  intended  to  study 
that  language  so  as  to  be  able  to  make  an  original  translation  of  the 
New  Testament  into  Mohawk. 

He  died  in  November,  1807,  and  was  said  to  have  been  sixty-five 
years  old  at  the  time  of  his  death.  He  left  several  children,  some 
of  whose  descendants  are  wealthy  and  respectable  people.  His  wife, 
at  his  death,  returned  to  her  wild  Indian  life. 

47 


48  TALEB   AND    TRADITIONS. 


MRS,  AUSTIN  AND  THE  BEAR, 

ONE  of  the  great  and  almost  insurmountable  difficulties  attendaLt 
upon  the  settlement  of  a  new  country,  is  that  of  rearing  farm  stock, 
and  preserving  it  from  the  attacks  of  wild  beasts.  The  experience 
of  the  pioneers  of  civilization  in  the  valley  of  the  Ohio,  on  this  point, 
taught  them  that,  until  the  country  became  more  fully  settled,  and 
the  increase  of  inhabitants  so  great  as  to  drive  back  the  denizens  of 
the  forest  to  more  distant  lairs,  they  must  depend  upon  their  rifles 
alone  for  a  supply  of  animal  food  for  the  table.  On  the  principle 
of  recompense,  perhaps,  it  was  not  so  hard  as  it  might  otherwise 
seem,  for  when  pork  and  beef  were  scarce,  "  b'ar  meat  "  was  plenty 
— and  vice  versa.  But  then,  it  was  hard  when  one  took  a  notion  to 
raise  a  pig  or  two  to  furnish  his  table  in  time  of  need,  to  rind  it  miss 
ing  some  bright  morning,  and  know  that  all  that  pork  had  gone  to 
fill  the  greedy  stomach  of  a  bear  or  "  painter."  Many  and  frequent 
were  the  encounters  at  the  sty  between  the  settler  and  his  dusky 
neighbor,  the  bear,  in  which  the  contest  for  the  possession  of  the 
pork  was  maintained  with  vigor  and  determination  on  the  one  side, 
and  on  the  other  with  a  hungry  energy,  which  was  deserving  of 
commendation,  if  not  of  success. 

Except  when  he  could  accomplish  his  object  by  stealth,  however, 
bruin  seldom  came  off  the  victor.  The  first  note  of  alarm  was  suffi 
cient  to  call  from  his  pallet  the  watchful  hunter,  and  the  deadly 
rifle  generally  sent  the  intruder  off  a  cripple,  or  stretched  his  carcass 
on  the  greensward,  a  trophy  to  the  skill  of  his  opponent.  The 
women,  too,  were  not  backward  in  defense  of  their  porcine  friends 
when  necessity  called  for  exertion  on  their  part  to  save  them  from 
destruction,  as  is  evidenced  by  several  anecdotes  of  their  intrepidity 
on  such  occasions. 

A  Mrs.  John  Austin,  of  Geneva  Township,  one  day  while  her 
husband  was  absent  from  home,  was  alarmed  by  the  sound  of  an 
unusual  commotion  among  her  pigs,  and  looking  in  the  direction  of 
48 


MRS.    AUSTIN    AND    THE    BKAR.  51 

the  sty,  which  stood  just  back  of  the  cabin,  she  beheld  a  bear  just 
in  the  act  of  climbing  over  the  inclosure  among  a  group  of  three  or 
four  promising  shotes,  which  she  fondly  hoped  would  one  day  fill 
the  pork  barrel  and  serve  to  supply  her  table  with  animal  food  dur 
ing  the  long  dreary  months  of  the  next  winter.  For  a  period  of 
many  weeks  had  she  nursed,  watched  and  fed  them,  in  anticipation 
of  their  future  usefulness,  and  she  could  not  bear  the  thought  of  part 
ing  with  them.  But  how  to  save  them  ? — that  was  the  question. 
There  was  no  one  near  to  aid  in  their  salvation,  and  she  must 
depend  upon  herself,  or  lose  her  pork.  The  danger  was  imminent, 
and  decisive  action  necessary.  Her  mind  was  soon  made  up  ;  she'd 
save  her  pigs  or  perish  in  the  attempt.  Calling  her  children,  she 
sent  them  up  into  the  loft  and  took  away  the  ladder,  that  they  might 
be  safe  in  case  she  was  unsuccessful  or  should  be  overcome  by  the 
bear.  Taking  down  her  husband's  rifle,  which  hung  on  its  pegs 
behind  the  door  of  the  cabin,  she  carefully  examined  it  to  see  if  it 
wras  loaded,  but  in  her  haste  overlooked  the  priming.  The  increas 
ing  confusion  in  the  sty  warned  her  that  delays  were  dangerous,  and 
she  sallied  forth  to  encounter  bruin,  who  was  already  on  his  way  to 
the  forest  with  one  of  the  pigs  in  his  arms.  The  latter  was  giving 
vent  to  his  fears  in  the  most  piercing  and  pitiful  tones,  while  his 
captor,  intent  only  on  securing  his  prize,  was  marching  off  at  a  rapid 
pace  on  his  hind  feet,  holding  the  pig  as  a  mother  holds  her  babe, 
and  indifferent  alike  to  his  struggles  and  his  pathetic  appeals  for 
mercy  and  relief.  A  momentary  tremor  seized  upon  the  frame  of 
the  heroine,  and  the  blood  ran  chill  through  her  heart,  as  her  gaze 
revealed  the  figure  of  a  bear  of  the  largest  size — an  antagonist  whom 
many  a  stalwart  hunter  would  have  hesitated  before  attacking.  No 
time  was  given  her,  however,  to  deliberate,  for  the  bear  had  discov 
ered  her  approach  almost  as  soon  as  she  turned  the  corner  of  the 
cabin.  Dropping  his  burden,  he  turned  to  face  his  enemy,  and  pre 
sented  a  front  which  might  have  appalled  a  much  stouter  heart  than 
that  of  our  heroine ;  while  the  pig— language  fails  me  in  the  attempt 
to  describe  the  emotions  which  filled  the  breast  of  that  now  over 
joyed  pig,  as  he  took  his  way  with  hasty  strides  to  his  former  quar 
ters,  and  snuggled  down  by  the  side  of  his  companions,  with  many 
a  grunt  of  satisfaction  at  his  escape  from  the  jaws  of  impending 

51 


53  TALES    AND    TRADITIONS. 

death.  I  leave  it  to  the  imagination  of  my  reader,  with  the  aid  of 
the  illustration,  to  supply  a  deficiency  which  my  pen  is  utterly  in 
capable  of  doing. 

Standing  thus  at  bay,  in  an  attitude  which  threatened  an  attack 
on  his  part,  the  bear  awaited  the  coming  of  his  adversary.  For 
tunately,  between  her  and  him  there  was  a  Virginia  worm  fence, 
which  formed  a  sort  of  breastwork,  and  offered  a  very  eligible  rest 
for  her  rifle.  Resting  her  weapon  upon  the  upper  rail  of  the  fence, 
she  kneeled  upon  one  knee,  and  took  deliberate  aim  at  the  heart  of 
her  savage  enemy.  For  the  space  of  a  minute  the  two  remained  in 
this  position,  until,  assured  of  her  aim,  Mrs.  Austin  pulled  the 
trigger.  To  her  horror  and  dismay,  the  steel  emitted  sparks,  but  no 
report  followed.  The  trusty  rifle  had  missed  fire.  How  shall  I 
describe  the  feelings  which  heaved  her  bosom,  as  her  eye  glanced 
along  the  barrel  until  it  rested  upon  the  dark  form  of  the  bear,  fear 
ing  lest  he  should  spring  upon  her  and  tear  her  limb  from  limb. 
Her  own  life,  and  the  lives  of  her  children  rested  upon  the  success 
of  her  shot,  and  should  he  change  his  position  so  as  to  present  a  less 
vulnerable  part  to  her  aim,  she  felt  that  her  hope  was  void  and  her 
fate  certain.  The  animal  still  remained  in  the  same  position,  how 
ever,  and  with  as  little  movement  as  possible,  she  drew  back  the 
hammer,  and  again  aimed  full  at  his  breast.  Again  the  piece  missed 
fire,  and  her  heart  sunk  within  her  as  she  saw  the  bear  move,  as 
though  he  disliked  his  ambiguous  position,  and  desired  to  change  it. 
Not  daring  to  lower  her  piece  to  examine  it,  and  hoping  that  the 
third  attempt  might  be  more  effectual,  she  again  essayed  to  discharge 
it ;  but  when,  for  the  third  time  it  failed  to  explode,  she  felt  a  sensa 
tion  of  horror  creep  over  her  which  seemed  to  curdle  the  life-blood 
in  her  veins,  and  her  limbs  seemed  palsied  with  terror  as  the  bear— 
who  had  by  this  time  become  disgusted  with  the  idea  of  being  made 
a  target  of— and  that,  too,  by  a  woman— dropped  upon  all  fours,  and 
as  she  thought,  prepared  to  spring  upon  her.  Satisfied,  however, 
with  his  own  exhibition  of  prowess— or,  perhaps,  fearful  of  attacking 
one  who  had  shown  herself  so  brave,  he  turned  on  his  heels,  and 
started  off  on  a  sidelong  trot  for  the  woods,  the  deep  recesses  of 
which  soon  hid  him  from  sight. 

Perhaps  it  was  fortunate  for  Mrs.  Austin  that  her  rifle  failed  to 
52 


MRS.    AUSTIN    AND    THE    BEAK.  53 

explode.  Had  she  wounded  the  animal  instead  of  killing  him,  or 
failed  to  hit  a  vital  part,  no  power  on  earth  could  have  saved  her 
from  his  savage  vengeance.  A  wounded  bear  is  one  of  the  most 
terrific  beasts  to  encounter,  and  the  hunter  will  seldom  attack  one 
of  these  dusky  denizens  of  the  forest  unless  he  has  other  arms  to 
depend  upon,  should  his  rifle  fail  to  strike  the  seat  of  life.  She  did 
not  stop  to  consider  the  subject,  however,  but  hastening  back  to  her 
cabin,  she  threw  herself  upon  the  floor,  and  gave  vent  to  her  over 
wrought  feelings  in  a  flood  of  tears.  The  excitement  which  had 
gradually  wrought  her  up  to  a  fearful  pitch  of  feeling  was  gone,  and 
the  revulsion  was  so  great  as  to  completely  unnerve  her.  She  soou 
rallied  again,  and  her  first  act,  on  becoming  more  calm,  was  to  offer 
thanks  to  that  Providence  which  had  watched  over  and  protected 
her  in  her  hour  of  need. 

One  of  the  most  terrible  bear-fights  on  record,  which  throws  the 
exploits  of  Davy  Crockett,  and  even  of  "  old  Grizzly  Adams"  into 
the  shade,  was  that  which  took  place  some  thirty  years  ago,  between 
a  man  by  the  name  of  John  Minter,  and  one  of  the  largest  and  most 
ferocious  of  the  species  of  black  bears.  Captain  Minter  was  one  of 
the  settlers  of  Ohio,  and,  in  his  youth,  had  been  a  great  hunter, 
spending  most  of  his  time  in  the  woods  in  pursuit  of  game  ;  and  such 
was  his  proficiency  with  the  rifle,  that  he  seldom  failed  to  bring  down 
the  fleetest-winged  denizen  of  the  air,  or  the  swiftest- footed  deer. 
His  last  hunt,  however,  was  the  crowning  glory  of  his  exploits,  bril 
liant  enough  to  satisfy  his  ambition,  and  induce  him  to  "  retire  upon 
his  dignity ;"  in  fact,  his  passion  for  hunting  was  suddenly  changed 
to  disgust,  and  he  gave  up  the  rifle  for  the  plow. 

He  had  been  out  one  day,  as  usual,  with  his  rifle,  in  pursuit  of  a 
flock  of  turkeys,  but  had  been  unsuccessful,  and  was  returning  home 
in  a  surly  mood,  when  he  came,  rather  unexpectedly,  upon  a  large 
black  bear,  who  seemed  disposed  to  dispute  his  passage.  Quick  as 
thought  his  piece  was  at  his  shoulder,  and  the  bullet  whizzed  through 
the  air,  striking  the  bear  full  in  the  breast,  and  he  fell  to  the  ground 
— as  Minter  supposed — dead.  Carefully  reloading  his  rifle,  not  to 
throw  away  a  chance,  he  approached  the  bear,  and  poked  his  nose 
with  the  muzzle,  to  see  if  any  spark  of  life  remained.  Bruin  was 
only  "  playing  'possum  "  as  it  seems,  for  with  far  more  agility  than 

58 


54:  TALES   AND    TRADITIONS. 

could  be  anticipated  of  a  beast  who  had  a  rifle-ball  through  his  body, 
he  reared  upon  his  hind-feet  and  made  at  the  hunter.  Minter  fired 
again,  but  in  his  haste  and  trepidation,  arising  from  the  sudden  and 
unexpected  attack,  he  failed  to  hit  a  vital  part,  and  a  second  wound 
only  served  to  make  the  brute  more  savage  and  desperate.  Drawing 
his  tomahawk,  he  threw  that ;  and  as  the  bear  dodged  it  and  sprung 
upon  him,  he  clubbed  his  rifle  and  struck  him  a  violent  blow  across 
the  head  with  the  butt,  which  resulted  in  shivering  the  stock,  and, 
if  possible,  increasing  his  rage.  Springing  back  to  avoid  the  sweep 
of  his  terrible  claws,  Minter  drew  his  long,  keen  hunting-knife,  and 
prepared  for  the  fatal  encounter  which  he  knew  must  ensue.  For  a 
moment  the  combatants  stood  gazing  at  each  other,  like  two  experi 
enced  duelists,  measuring  each  the  other's  strength.  Minter  was  a 
man  of  powerful  frame,  and  possessed  of  extraordinary  muscular 
development,  which,  with  his  quick  eye  and  ready  hand,  made  him 
a  very  athletic  and  dangerous  enemy.  He  stood  six  feet  high,  and 
was  beautifully  proportioned.  The  bear  was  a  male  of  the  largest 
size,  and,  rendered  desperate  by  his  wounds,  which  were  bleeding 
profusely,  was  a  fearful  adversary  to  encounter  under  any  circum 
stances  ;  more  particularly  so  to  Minter,  who  now  had  simply  his 
knife  to  depend  upon,  to  decide  the  contest  between  them.  As  Bruin 
advanced  to  seize  him,  he  made  a  powerful  blow  at  his  heart,  which, 
had  it  taken  effect,  would  have  settled  the  matter  at  once ;  but  the 
other  was  too  quick  for  him,  and  with  a  sweep  of  his  tremendous 
paw,  parried  the  blow,  and  sent  the  weapon  whirling  through  the 
air  to  a  distance  of  twenty  feet ;  the  next  instant  the  stalwart  hunter 
was  enfolded  in  the  embrace  of  those  fearful  paws,  and  both  were 
rolling  on  the  ground  in  a  death-like  grapple. 

The  woods  were  open,  and  free  from  underbrush  to  a  considerable 
extent,  and  in  their  struggles  they  rolled  about  in  every  direction. 
The  object  of  the  bear  was,  of  course,  to  hug  his  adversary  to  death, 
which  the  other  endeavored  to  avoid  by  presenting  his  body  in  such 
a  position  as  would  best  resist  the  vice-like  squeeze,  until  he  could 
loosen  his  grasp ;  to  accomplish  which,  he  seized  the  bear  by  the 
throat  with  both  hands,  and  exerted  all  his  energy  and  muscular 
power  to  throttle  him.  This  had  the  twofold  effect  of  preventing 
him  from  using  his  teeth,  and  compelling  him  to  release  the  hug,  to 
54 


MRS.    AUSTIN    AND    THE    BEAR.  00 

knock  off  the  other's  hands  with  his  paws ;  thus  affording  Minter  an 
opportunity  to  catch  his  breath,  and  change  his  position.  Several 
times  he  thought  lie  should  be  crushed  under  the  immense  pressure 
to  which  he  was  subjected  ;  but  was  buoyed  up  with  the  hope  of 
reaching  his  knife,  which  lay  within  sight,  and  toward  •which  he  en 
deavored  to  fall  every  time  they  came  to  the  ground.  With  the  hot 
breath  of  the  ferocious  brute  steaming  in  his  face,  and  the  blood 
i'rom  his  own  wounds  mingling  with  Hint  of  the  bear,  and  running 
to  his  heels,  his  flesh  terribly  cut  up  and  lacerated  by  his  claws,  he 
still  continued  to  maintain  the  struggle  against  the  fearful  odds,  until 
he  was  enabled  to  reach  the  weapon,  which  he  grasped  with  joy, 
and  clung  to  with  the  tenacity  of  a  death-grip.  With  his  little  re 
maining  strength,  and  at  every  opportunity  between  the  tremendous 
hugs,  he  plied  the  knife  until  the  bear  showed  evident  signs  of  weak 
ness,  and  finally  bled  to  death  from  the  numerous  wounds  from 
whence  flowed,  in  copious  streams,  his  warm  life's  blood,  staining 
the  leaves  and  greensward  of  a  crimson  hue. 

Releasing  himself  from  the  embrace  of  the  now  inanimate  brute, 
Minter  crawled  to  a  decaying  stump,  against  which  he  leaned,  and 
surveyed  the  scene.  His  heart  sickened  as  he  contemplated  his  own 
person.  He  had  gone  into  the  battle  with  a  stout,  heavy  hunting- 
shirt,  and  underclothing ;  with  buckskin  leggins  and  moccasins  ;  and 
had  come  out  of  it  with  scarcely  a  rag  upon  him,  except  the  belt 
around  his  waist,  which  still  held  a  few  strips  of  tattered  cloth,  and 
a  moccasin  on  one  foot.  His  body,  from  his  neck  to  his  heels,  was 
covered  with  great  gaping  wounds,  many  of  which  penetrated  to  the 
bone,  and  the  blood  was  flowing  in  torrents  to  the  ground,  covering 
him  with  gore  from  head  to  foot.  For  a  space  of  more  than  half  an 
acre,  the  ground  was  torn  up,  and  had  the  appearance  of  a  butcher's 
shambles. 

As  soon  as  he  had  recovered  his  breath,  be  commenced  to 
crawl  toward  his  home,  where  he  arrived  after  nightfall,  looking 
more  like  a  slaughtered  beef  than  a  human  being.  His  wounds 
were  dressed  by  his  family  and  friends,  and  after  being  confined  to 
his  bed  for  many  weeks,  thanks  to  his  healthy,  rugged  constitution, 
he  entirely  recovered  ;  but  he  bore  to  the  grave  the  marks  of  his 
terrible  contest,  in  numerous  cicatrices  and  welts  which  covered  his 

55 


56  TALKS    AND    TRADITIONS. 

back,  arms  and  legs,  where  the  bear's  claws  had  left  ineffaceable 
marks  of  his  strength  and  ferocity. 

Speaking  of  Davy  Crockett,  reminds  us  that  there  was  one  of  his 
adventures  which  deserves  to  be  classed  with  the  ''highly  exciting" 
experiences  of  which  Captain  Mintcr's  was  so  good  in  its  way.  It 
was  during  the  Colonel's  travels  through  Texas;  he  had  left  his 
party,  to  give  chase  to  a  drove  of  mustangs  over  a  prairie ;  he  had 
purs'ied  them  to  the  banks  of  the  Navasola  river,  where  they  had 
plunged  into  the  stream,  and  where  his  own  tough  little  animal  had 
fallen  to  the  ground,  apparently  in  a  state  of  exhaustion.  But  we 
must  give  Colonel  Crockett's  story  in  his  own  words,  unless  we  wish 
to  rob  it  of  its  peculiar  grace.  He  says : 

"  After  toiling  for  more  than  an  hour  to  get  my  mustang  upon  his 
feet  again,  I  gave  it  up  as  a  bad  job,  as  little  Van  did  when  he 
attempted  to  raise  himself  to  the  moon  by  the  waistband  of  his 
breeches.  Night  was  fast  closing  in, -and  as  I  began  to  think  that 
I  had  just  about  sport  enough  for  one  clay,  I  might  as  well  look 
around  for  a  place  of  shelter  for  the  night,  and  take  a  fresh  start  in 
the  morning,  by  which  time  I  was  in  hopes  my  horse  would  be 
recruited.  Near  the  margin  of  the  river  a  large  tree  had  been  blown 
down,  and  I  thought  of  making  my  lair  in  its  top,  and  approached 
it  for  that  purpose.  While  beating  among  the  branches  I  heard  a 
low  growl,  as  much  as  to  say,  '  Stranger,  the  apartments  are  already 
taken.'  Looking  about  to  see  what  sort  of  a  bedfellow  I  was  likely 
to  have,  I  discovered,  not  more  than  five  or  six  puces  from  me,  an 
enormous  Mexican  cougar,  eyt'ing  me  as  an  epicure  surveys  the  table 
before  he  selects  his  dish,  for  I  have  no  doubt  the  cougar  looked 
upon  me  as  the  subject  of  a  future  supper.  Rays  of  light  darted 
from  his  large  eyes,  he  showed  his  teeth  like  a  negro  in  hysterics, 
and  he  was  crouching  on  his  haunches  ready  for  a  spring ;  all  of 
which  convinced  me  that  unless  I  was  pretty  quick  upon  the  trigger, 
posterity  would  know  little  of  the  termination  of  my  eventful  career, 
and  it  would  be  far  less  glorious  and  useful  than  I  intend  to  make  it. 

11  One  glance  satisfied  me  that  there  was  no  time  to  be  lost,  as 
Pat  thought  when  falling  from  a  church  steeple,  and  exclaimed, 
'This  would  be  mighty  pleasant  now,  if  it  would  only  last,'  but 
there  was  no  retreat  either  for  me  or  the  cougar,  so  I  leveled  my 


MRS.    AUSTIN    AND    THE    BEAK.  57 

Betsy  and  blazed  away.  The  report  was  followed  by  a  furious 
growl,  (which  is  sometimes  the  case  in  Congress,)  and  the  next  mo 
ment,  when  I  expected  to  find  the  tarnal  critter  struggling  with  death, 
I  beheld  him  shaking  his  head  as  if  nothing  more  than  a  bee  had 
stung  him.  The  ball  had  struck  him  on  the  forehead  and  glanced 
off,  doing  no  other  injury  than  stunning  him  for  an  instant,  and 
tearing  off  the  skin,  which  tended  to  infuriate  him  the  more.  The 
cougar  wasn't  long  in  making  up  his  mind  what  to  do,  nor  was  I 
neither ;  but  he  would  have  it  all  his  own  way,  and  vetoed  my 
motion  to  back  out.  I  had  not  retreated  three  steps  before  he  sprung 
at  me  like  a  steamboat ;  I  stepped  aside,  and  as  he  lit  upon  the 
ground,  I  struck  him  violently  with  the  barrel  of  my  rifle,  but  he 
didn't  mind  that,  but  wheeled  around  and  made  at  me  again.  The 
gun  was  now  of  no  use,  so  I  threw  it  away,  and  drew  my  hunting 
knife,  for  I  knew  we  should  come  to  close  quarters  before  the  fight 
would  be  over.  This  time  he  succeeded  in  fastening  on  my  left  arm, 
and  was  just  beginning  to  amuse  himself  by  tearing  the  flesh  off  with 
his  fangs,  when  I  ripped  my  knife  into  his  side,  and  he  let  go  his 
hold,  much  to  my  satisfaction. 

"  He  wheeled  about  and  came  at  me  with  increased  fury,  occasioned 
by  the  smarting  of  his  wounds.  I  now  tried  to  blind  him,  knowing 
that  if  1  succeeded  he  would  become  an  easy  prey  ;  so  as  he  ap 
proached  me  I  watched  my  opportunity,  and  aimed  a  blow  at  his 
eyes  with  my  knife,  but  unfortunately  it  struck  him  on  the  nose,  and 
he  paid  no  other  attention  to  it  than  by  a  shake  of  the  head  and  a 
low  growl.  He  pressed  rne  close,  and  as  I  was  stepping  backward 
my  foot  tripped  in  a  vine,  and  I  fell  to  the  ground.  He  was  down 
upon  me  like  a  nighthawk  upon  a  June  bug.  He  seized  hold  of  the 
outer  part  of  my  right  thigh,  which  afforded  him  considerable  amuse 
ment  ;  the  hinder  part  of  his  body  was  toward  my  face ;  I  grasped 
his  tail  with  my  left  hand,  and  tickled  his  ribs  with  my  hunting- 
knife,  which  I  held  in  my  right.  Still  the  critter  wouldn't  let  go 
his  hold  ;  and  as  I  found  that  he  would  lacerate  my  leg  dreadfully, 
unless  he  was  speedily  shaken  off,  I  tried  to  hurl  him  down  the  bank 
into  the  river,  for  our  scuffle  had  already  brought  us  to  the  edge  of 
the  bank.  I  stuck  my  knife  into  his  side,  and  summoned  all  my 
strength  to  throw  him  over.  He  resisted,  was  desperate  heavy ;  but 

57 


63  TALES    AND   TRADITIONS. 

at  last  I  got  him  so  fur  down  the  declivity  that  he  lost  his  balance, 
and  he  rolled  over  and  over  till  he  landed  on  the  margin  of  the 
river;  but  in  his  fall  he  dragged  me  along  with  him.  Fortunately, 
I  fell  uppermost,  and  his  neck  presented  a  fair  mark  for  my  hunting 
knife.  Without  allowing  myself  time  even  to  draw  breath,  I  aimed 
one  desperate  blow  at  his  neck,  and  the  knife  entered  his  gullet  up 
to  the  handle,  and  reached  his  heart.  I  have  had  many  fights  with 
bears,  but  that  was  mere  child's  play  ;  this  was  the  first  fight  ever  I 
had  with  a  cougar,  and  I  hope  it  may  be  the  last. 

"  I  now  returned  to  the  tree-top  to  see  if  any  one  else  would  dis 
pute  my  lodging ;  but  now  I  could  take  peaceable  and  quiet  posses 
sion.  I  parted  some  of  the  branches,  and  cut  away  others  to  make 
a  bed  in  the  opening;  I  then  gathered  a  quantity  of  moss,  which 
hung  in  festoons  from  the  trees,  which  I  spread  on  the  litter,  and 
over  this  I  spread  my  horse-blanket ;  and  I  had  as  comfortable  a 
bed  as  a  weary  man  need  ask  for.  I  now  took  another  look  at  my 
mustang,  and  from  all  appearances,  he  would  not  live  until  morning. 
I  ate  some  of  the  cakes  that  little  Kate  of  Nacogdoches  had  made 
for  me,  and  then  carried  my  saddle  into  my  tree-top,  and  threw  my 
self  down  upon  my  bed  with  no  very  pleasant  reflections  at  the 
prospect  before  me. 

"  I  was  weary,  and  soon  fell  asleep,  and  did  not  awake  until  day 
break  the  next  day.  I  felt  somewhat  stiff  and  sore  from  the  wounds 
I  had  received  in  the  conflict  with  the  cougar ;  but  I  considered 
myself  as  having  made  a  lucky  escape.  I  looked  over  the  bank, 
and  as  I  saw  the  carcass  of  the  cougar  lying  there,  I  thought  that  it 
was  an  even  chance  that  we  had  not  exchanged  conditions;  and  I 
felt  grateful  that  the  fight  had  ended  as  it  did.  I  now  went  to  look 
after  my  mustang,  fully  expecting  to  find  him  aa  dead  as  the  cougar ; 
but  what  was  my  astonishment  to  find  that  he  had  disappeared 
without  leaving  trace  of  hair  or  hide  of  him  !  I  first  supposed  that 
some  beasts  of  prey  had  consumed  the  poor  critter  ;  but  then  they 
wouldn't  have  eaten  his  bones,  and  he  had  vanished  as  effectually  as 
the  deposits,  without  leaving  any  mark  of  the  course  they  had 
taken.  This  bothered  me  amazing ;  I  couldn't  figure  it  out  by  any 
rule  that  I  had  ever  heard  of,  so  I  concluded  to  think  no  more  about 

it. 

58 


MRS.    AUSTIN    AND    THE    BEAR.  59 

"  I  felt  a  craving  for  something  to  eat,  and  looking  around  for 
some  game.  I  saw  a  flock  of  geese  on  the  shore  of  the  river.  I  shot 
a  fine,  fat  gander,  and  soon  stripped  him  of  his  feathers ;  and  gather 
ing  some  light  wood,  I  kindled  a  fire,  run  a  long  stick  through  my 
goose  for  a  spit,  and  put  it  down  to  roast,  supported  by  two  sticks 
with  prongs.  I  had  a  desire  for  some  coffee ;  and  having  a  tin  cup 
with  me,  I  poured  the  paper  of  ground  coffee  that  I  had  received 
from  the  bee-hunter  into  it,  and  made  a  strong  cup,  which  was  very 
refreshing.  Off  of  my  goose  and  biscuit  I  made  a  hearty  meal,  and 
was  preparing  to  depart  without  clearing  up  the  breakfast  things,  or 
knowing  which  direction  to  pursue,  when  I  was  somewhat  taken 
aback  by  another  of  the  wild  scenes  of  the  West.  I  heard  a  sound 
like  the  trampling  of  many  horses,  and  I  thought  to  be  sure  the 
mustangs  or  buffaloes  were  coming  upon  me  again  ;  but  on  raising 
my  head,  I  beheld  in  the  distance  about  fifty  mounted  Comanches, 
with  their  spears  glittering  in  the  morning  sun,  dashing  toward  the 
spot  where  I  stood  at  full  speed.  As  the  column  advanced,  it 
divided,  according  to  their  usual  practice,  into  two  semicircles,  and 
in  an  instant  I  was  surrounded.  Quicker  than  thought  I  sprung  to 
my  rifle,  but  as  my  hand  grasped  it,  I  felt  that  resistance  against  so 
many  would  be  of  as  little  use  as  pumping  for  thunder  in  dry 
weather. 

"  The  chief  was  for  making  love  to  my  beautiful  Betsy,  but  I  clung 
fast  to  her,  and  assuming  an  air  of  composure,  I  demanded  whether 
their  nation  was  at  war  with  the  Americans.  '  No,'  was  the  reply. 
*  Do  you  like  the  Americans  ?'  '  Yes ;  they  are  our  friends.' 
'  Where  do  you  get  your  spear-heads,  your  rifles,  your  blankets,  and 
your  knives  from  ?'  '  Get  them  from  our  friends,  the  Americans.' 
'  Well,  do  you  think,  if  you  were  passing  through  their  nation,  as  I 
am  passing  through  yours,  they  would  attempt  to  rob  you  of  your 
property  ?'  '  No,  they  would  feed  me,  and  protect  me  ;  and  the 
Comanche  will  do  the  same  by  his  white  brother.' 

"  I  now  asked  him  what  it  was  had  directed  him  to  the  spot  where 
I  was,  and  he  told  me  that  they  had  seen  the  smoke  from  a  great 
distance,  and  had  come  to  see  the  cause  of  it.  He  inquired  what 
had  brought  me  there  alone ;  and  I  told  him  that  I  hud  come  to 
hunt,  and  that  my  mustang  had  become  exhausted  and  though  I 

50 


TALKS    AND    TRADITIONS. 

thought  he  was  about  to  die,  that  he  had  escaped  from  me ;  at 
which  the  chief  gave  a  low,  chuckling  laugh,  and  said  it  was  all  a 
trick  of  the  mustang,  which  is  the  most  wily  and  cunning  of  all 
animals.  But  he  said,  that  as  I  was  a  brave  hunter,  he  would  fur 
nish  me  with  another  ;  he  gave  orders,  and  a  fine  young  horse  was 
immediately  brought  forward. 

"When  the  party  approached  there  were  three  old  squaws  at  their 
head,  who  made  a  noise  with  their  mouths,  and  served  as  trumpeters. 

"  I  now  told  the  chief  that,  as  I  now  had  a  horse,  I  would  go  for 
my  saddle,  which  was  in  the  place  where  I  had  slept.  As  I  ap-. 
preached  the  spot,  I  discovered  one  of  the  squaws  devouring  the 
remains  of  my  roasted  goose,  but  my  saddle  and  bridle  were  nowhere 
to  be  found.  Almost  in  despair  of  seeing  them  again,  I  observed, 
in  a  thicket  at  a  little  distance,  one  of  the  trumpeters  kicking  and 
belaboring  her  horse  to  make  him  move  off,  while  the  sagacious 
beast  would  not  move  a  step  from  the  troop.  I  followed  her,  and 
thanks  to  her  restive  mustang,  secured  my  property,  which  the 
chief  made  her  restore  to  me.  Some  of  the  warriors  had  by  this 
time  discovered  the  body  of  the  cougar,  and  had  already  commenced 
skinning  it ;  and  seeing  how  many  stabs  were  about  it,  I  related  to 
the  chief  the  desperate  struggle  I  had  had ;  he  said,  '  Brave  hunter, 
brave  man,'  and  wished  me  to  be  adopted  into  his  tribe,  but  I 
respectfully  declined  the  honor.  He  then  offered  to  see  me  on  my 
way ;  and  I  asked  him  to  accompany  me  to  the  Colorado  river,  if 
he  was  going  in  that  direction,  which  he  agreed  to  do.  I  put  my 
saddle  on  my  fresh  horse,  mounted,  and  we  darted  off,  at  a  rate  not 
much  slower  than  I  had  rode  the  day  previous  with  the  wild  herd, 
the  old  squaws  at  the  head  of  the  troop  braying  like  young  jackasses 
the  whole  way." 

The  more  we  study  the  history  of  frontier  life,  the  more  we  are 
surprised  at  the  characters  of  such  men  as  Simon  Kenton  in  one  way 
and  David  Crockett  in  another.  It  would  seem  as  if  they  were  made 
to  command  the  circumstances  in  which  they  were  placed— indige 
nous  to  the  soil  in  which  they  grew — with  traits  which  sprung  up 
to  meet  every  emergency  of  their  times  and  places.  They  were  of 
a  new  race,  the  like  of  which  no  other  sun  nor  age  had  looked  upon 
— Americans,  indeed,  in  the  broadest  sense—men  sent  to  prepare  the 
60 


*  MllS.    AUSTIN    AND    THE    BTCATC.  01 

soil  of  civilization  for  the  rich  fruit  and  flowers  which  already  cover 
the  furrows  turned  by  their  brave  and  vigorous  arms. 

David  Crockett's  grandparents  were  murdered  by  Indians ;  and  he 
was  born  and  reared  in  the  midst  of  those  privations  which  helped 
to  make  him  what  he  was.  It  is  quite  delightful,  in  reading  his  "  life  " 
to  see  with  what  ease  and  nonchalance  he  dispatches  a  few  bears  in 
the  course  of  a  day,  or  does  any  other  work  which  is  thrown  in  his 
way.  As  in  the  specimen  we  have  quoted,  he  conquers  his  cougar, 
and  ingratiates  himself  with  a  roving  band  of  Comanches,  and  "  does 
up  "  enough  adventures  in  a  chapter  to  satisfy  any  ordinary  man,  if 
stretched  through  a  long  lifetime.  Let  us  treasure  up  the  records 
of  "  Davy  Crockett,"  for  we  shall  never  have  another  like  him. 

To  show  the  perfect  isolation  in  which  some  of  the  pioneers  lived, 
and  the  manner  of  their  lives,  we  will  give  an  anecdote  of  a  Mr. 
Muklrow,  one  of  the  settlers  of  Kentucky,  whose  name  is  slill 
attached  to  a  range  of  savage  precipices  in  the  central  part  of  the 
State,  called  Muldrow's  hill.  The  individual  referred  to  settled  here 
at  a  time  when  there  was  not  a  single  white  man  but  himself  in  this 
vicinity,  and  here  he  had  resided  for  a  year  with  his  wife,  without 
having  seen  the  face  of  any  other  human  being.  Perhaps,  as  it  was  his 
choice  to  reside  in  a  wilderness,  isolated  from  his  own  species,  he 
might  have  thought  it  prudent  to  conceal  his  place  of  abode  from 
the  Indians,  by  erecting  his  cabin  in  an  inhospitable  waste,  difficult 
of  access,  where  there  were  no  pastures  to  invite  the  deer  or  buffalo, 
and  no  game  to  allure  the  savage  hunter,  and  where  his  family 
remained  secure,  while  he  roved  with  his  gun  over  some  hunting- 
ground  at  a  convenient  distance. 

After  passing  a  year  in  this  mode  of  life,  he  was  one  day  wander 
ing  through  the  woods  in  search  of  game,  when  he  heard  the  bark 
ing  of  a  dog,  and  supposing  that  an  Indian  was  near,  concealed  him 
self.  Presently  a  small  clog  came  running  along  his  track,  with  his 
nose  to  the  ground,  as  if  pursuing  his  footsteps,  and  had  nearly 
reached  his  hiding-place,  when  it  stopped,  snuffed  the  air,  and 
littered  a  low  whine,  as  if  to  admonish  its  master  that  the  object  of 
pursuit  was  near  at  hand.  In  a  few  minutes  the  owner  of  the  dog 
came  stepping  cautiously  along,  glancing  his  eyes  jealously  around, 
and  uttering  low  signals  to  the  dog.  But  the  dog  stood  at  fault, 

61 


TALES    AND    TRADITION'S. 

and  the  owner  halted  within  a  few  yards  of  our  hunter  and  exposed 
to  view. 

The  new-comer  was  a  tall,  athletic  man,  completely  armed  with 
rifle,  tomahawk  and  knife ;  but  whether  he  was  a  white  man  or  an 
Indian,  could  not  be  determined  either  by  his  complexion  or  dress. 
He  wore  a  hunting-shirt  and  leggins,  of  dressed  deer-skin,  and  a  hat 
fr>m  which  the  rim  was  entirely  worn  away,  and  the  crown  elon 
gated  into  the  shape  of  a  sugar-loaf.  The  face,  feet  and  hands, 
which  were  exposed,  were  of  the  tawny  hue  of  the  savage  ;  but 
whether  the  color  was  natural,  or  the  effect  of  exposure,  could  not 
be  ascertained  even  by  the  keen  eye  of  the  hunter ;  and  the  features 
were  so  disguised  with  dirt  and  gunpowder,  that  their  expression 
afforded  no  clue  by  which  the  question  could  be  decided  whether 
the  person  was  a  friend  or  foe.  There  was  but  a  moment  for  scru 
tiny  ;  the  pioneer,  inclining  to  the  opinion  that  the  stranger  was  an 
Indian,  cautiously  drew  up  his  rifle,  and  took  deliberate  aim  ;  but 
the  bare  possibility  that  he  might  be  pointing  his  weapon  at  the 
bosom  of  a  countryman  induced  him  to  pause. 

Again  he  raised  his  gun,  and  again  hesitated  ;  while  his  opponent, 
with  his  rifle  half-raised  toward  his  face,  and  his  finger  on  the  trig 
ger,  looked  eagerly  around.  Both  stood  motionless  and  silent*—  one 
searching  for  the  object  of  his  pursuit,  the  other  in  readiness  to  fire. 
At  length  the  hunter,  having  resolved  to  delay  no  longer,  cocked 
his  rifle— the  click  reached  the  acute  ear  of  the  other,  who  instantly 
sprung  behind  a  tree ;  the  hunter  imitated  his  example,  and  they 
were  now  fairly  opposed,  each  covered  by  a  tree,  from  behind  which 
he  endeavored  to  get  a  shot  at  his  adversary  without  exposing  his 
own  person. 

And  now  a  series  of  stratagems  ensued,  each  seeking  to  draw  the 
fire  of  the  other,  until  the  stranger,  becoming  weary  of  suspense, 
called  out : 

"  Why  don't  you  shoot,  you  etarnal  cowardly  varmint?" 

"  Shoot,  yourself,  you  bloody  red-skin  !"  retorted  the  other. 

"No  more  a  red-skin  than  yourself!" 

"  Are  you  a  white  man  ?" 

"  To  be  sure  I  am.     Are  you  V" 

"  Yes ;  no  mistake  in  me  !" 


MRS.    AUSTIN    AND    THE    BEAR.  63 

Whereupon,  each  being  undeceived,  they  threw  down  their  guns, 
rushed  together  with  open  arms,  and  took  a  hearty  hug.  The 
hunter  now  learned  that  the  stranger  had  been  settled,  with  his  fam 
ily,  about  ten  miles  from  him,  for  several  months  past,  and  that 
each  had  frequently  roamed  over  the  same  hunting-ground,  suppos 
ing  himself  the  sole  inhabitant  of  that  region.  On  the  following  day 
the  hunter  saddled  his  horse,  and  taking  up  his  good  wife  behind 
him,  carried  her  down  to  make  a  call  upon  her  new  neighbor,  who 
doubtless  received  the  visit  with  far  more  sincere  joy  than  usually 
attends  such  ceremonies. 

There  is  a  well-accredited  bear-story  which  belongs  to  the  early 
history  of  Ohio,  and  which  is  of  a  little  different  type  from  most  of  the 
adventures  with  these  ugly  animals.  An  old  pilot  of  the  Ohio  was 
once  obliged  to  give  a  bruin  a  free  ride — but  he  could  hardly  blame 
the  bear,  after  stopping  so  kindly  to  take  him  in.  But  we  must  let 
him  tell  his  own  story.  "  Twenty  odd  year  ago,"  said  the  pilot, 
"  there  warn't  a  great  many  people  along  the  Ohio,  except  Injins  and 
b'ars,  and  we  didn't  like  to  cultivate  a  clust  acquaintance  with  either 
of  'em ;  fer  the  Injins  were  cheatin',  scalpin'  critters,  and  the  bears 
had  an  onpleasant  way  with  them.  Ohio  warn't  any  great  shakes 
then,  but  it  had  a  mighty  big  pile  of  the  tallest  kind  of  land  lay  in' 
about,  waitiu'  to  be  opened  to  the  sunlight.  'Arly  one  mornin'  when 
my  companions  was  asleep,  I  got  up  and  paddled  across  the  river 
after  a  deer,  for  we  wanted  venison  for  breakfast,  I  got  a  bunk  and 
was  returning  when  what  should  I  see  but  a  b'ar  svvimmin'  tne  Ohio, 
and  I  put  out  in  chase  right  off.  I  soon  overhauled  the  critter  and 
picked  up  my  rifle  to  give  him  a  settler,  but  the  primin'  had  got  wet 
and  the  gun  wouldn't  go  off.  I  didn't  understand  b'ar  as  well  then 
as  I  do  now,  and  I  thought  I'd  run  him  down  and  drown  him  or 
knock  him  in  the  head.  So  I  put  the  canoe  right  eend  on  toward 
him,  thinkin'  to  run  him  under,  but  when  the  bow  teched  him,  what 
did  he  do  but  reach  his  great  paws  up  over  the  side  of  the  canoe  and 
begin  to  climb  in.  I  hadn't  bargained  for  that.  I  felt  mighty  on- 
pleasant,  you  may  believe,  at  the  prospect  of  sech  a  passenger.  I 
hadn't  time  to  get  at  him  with  the  butt  of  my  rifle,  till  he  came 
tumbling  into  the  dugout,  and,  as  he  seated  himself  on  his  starn, 
showed  as  pretty  a  set  of  ivory  as  you'd  wish  to  see.  Thar  we  sot, 

G3 


64  TALES    AND    TRADITIONS. 

he  in  one  end  of  the  dugout,  I  in  t'other,  eyein'  one  another  in  a 
mighty  suspicious  sort  of  way.  He  didn't'  seem  inclined  to  come 
near  my  eend  of  the  canoe,  and  I  was  principled  agin  goin'  toward 
his.  I  made  ready  to  take  to  the  water,  but  at  the  same  time  made 
up  my  mind  I'd  paddle  him  to  shore,  free  gratis  for  nothin'  if  he'd 
behave  hisself.  Wai,  I  paddled  away,  the.b'ar  every  now  and  then 
grinn'in'  at  me,  skinnin'  his  face  till  every  tooth  in  his  head  stood 
right  out,  and  grumblin'  to  hisself  in  a  way  that  seemed  to  say,  '  I 
wonder  if  that  chap's  good  to  eat.'  I  didn't  offer  any  opinion  on 
the  subject ;  I  didn't  say  a  word  to  him,  treatin'  him  all  the  time 
like  a  gentleman,  but  kept  pullin'  for  the  shore.  When  the  canoe 
touched  ground,  he  clambered  over  the  side,  climbed  up  the  bank, 
and  givin'  me  an  extra  grin,  made  off  for  the  woods.  I  pushed  the 
dugout  back  suddenly,  and  give  him,  as  I  felt  safe  agin,  a  double 
war  whoop,  that  astonished  him.  I  learned  one  thing  that  morning 
— never  to  try  to  drown  a  b\ir — 'specially  by  running  him  down  with 
a  dugout— it  wont  pay  !" 


04 


T  ^  L  E  S, 


TRADITIONS  AND  ROMANCE 


OF 


BORDER  AND  REVOLUTIONARY  TIMES. 


BIO   JOE    LOGSTON. 

DEBORAH,  THE  MAIDEN  WARRIOR. 
GKEN.    MORGAN'S    PRAYER. 
BRAVERY  OF  THE  JOHNSON  BOYS. 


USTJKW    YORK: 

BEADLE  AND  COMPANY,  PUBLISHERS, 

118  WILLIAM    STREET. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1863,  by 

BEADLE    AND    COMPANY, 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States  for  the 
Southern  District  of  New  York. 


BIG  JOE  LOGSTON'S 

STRUGGLE  WITH  AN  INDIAN. 


WE  have  plentiful  stories  of  encounters  between  the  white  man  and 
the  red,  in  which  the  fierce  rivalry  is  contested  with  rifles,  knives, 
or  the  swift  foot-race  for  life  ;  but  it  is  seldom  we  hear  of  a  genuine 
fat-fight  between  the  hardy  men  of  the  forest  and  their  implacable 
foe.  Only  two  or  three  such  novel  incidents  occur  in  the  history 
of  the  Western  border. 

Joe  Logston  was  one  of  the  race  of  famous  frontier  men,  the 
"  Hunters  of  Kentucky,"  whose  exploits  have  been  told  in  story  and 
sung  in  song.  He  could,  to  use  his  own  words,  "  outrun,  outhop, 
ouljump,  throw  down,  drag  out  and  whip  any  man  in  the  country  " 
— which  was  saying  a  good  deal  for  those  days,  when  men  like 
Brady,  Wetzel,  M'Clelland,  Adam  Poe  and  Kenton  sprung  up  to 
face  the  dangers  of  the  hour. 

Joe  was  a  powerful  fellow  of  six  foot  three  in  his  stockings,  and 
proportionately  stout  and  muscular,  with  a  handsome,  good-natured 
face,  and  a  fist  like  a  sledge-hammer.  Fear  was  a  word  of  which 
he  knew  not  the  meaning,  while  to  fight  was  his  pastime,  particu 
larly  if  his  own  scalp  was  the  prize  he  fought  for. 

On  one  occasion  he  was  mounted  on  his  favorite  pony,  bound  on 
an  expedition  outside  the  fort.  The  pony  was  leisurely  picking  his 
way  along  the  trail,  with  his  head  down  and  half  asleep,  while  his 
rider  was  enjoying  a  feast  on  some  wild  grapes  which  he  had 
gathered  as  he  passed  along.  Neither  dreamed  of  danger,  until  the 
crack  of  two  rifles  on  either  side  the  path  killed  the  horse  and 
wounded  the  rider.  A  ball  struck  Joe,  grazing  the  skin  above 


6  TALES   AND   TRADITIONS. 

the  breast-bone,  but  without  doing  any  material  damage.  The 
other  ball  passed  through  his  horse,  just  behind  the  saddle.  In 
an  instant  Joe  found  himself  on  his  feet,  grasping  his  trusty  rifle, 
which  he  had  instinctively  seized  as  he  slipped  to  the  ground,  ready 
for  the  foe.  He  might  easily  have  escaped  by  running,  as  the  guns 
of  the  Indians  Vere  empty,  and  they  could  not  begin  to  compete 
with  him  in  speed.  But  Joe  was  not  one  of  that  sort.  He  boasted 
that  he  had  never  left  a  battle-field  without  making  his  "  mark,"  and 
he  was  not  disposed  to  begin  now.  One  of  the  savages  spri:ng  into 
the  path  and  made  at  him,  but  finding  his  antagonist  prepared,  he 
"  treed "  again.  Joe,  knowing  there  were  two  of  the  varmints, 
looked  earnestly  about  him  for  the  other,  and  soon  discovered  him 
between  two  saplings,  engaged  in  reloading  his  piece.  The  trees 
were  scarcely  large  enough  to  shield  his  person,  and  in  pushing 
down  the  ball,  he  exposed  his  hips,  when  Joe,  quick  as  thought. 
drew  a  bead,  and  firing,  struck  him  in  the  exposed  part.  Now  that 
his  rifle  was  empty,  the  big  Indian  who  had  first  made  his  appear 
ance,  rushed  forward,  feeling  sure  of  his  prey,  and  rejoicing  in  the 
anticipated  possession  of  the  white  man's  scalp.  Joe  w  is  not  going 
to  resign  this  necessary  and  becoming  covering  to  his  head  without 
a  struggle,  and  stood,  calmly  awaiting  the  savage,  with  his  rifle 
clubbed  and  his  feet  braced  for  a  powerful  blow.  Perceiving  this, 
his  foe  halted  within  ten  paces,  and  with  all  the  vengeful  force  of  a 
vigorous  arm,  threw  his  tomahawk  full  at  Joe's  face.  "With  the 
rapidity  of  lightning  it  whirled  through  the  air ;  but  Joe,  equally 
quick  in  his  movements,  dodged  it,  .suffering  only  a  slight  cut  on  the 
left  shoulder  as  it  passed,  when  he  "  went  in." 

The  Indian  darted  into  the  bushes,  successfully  dodging  the  blows 
made  at  his  head  by  the  now  enraged  hunter,  who,  becoming  excited 
to  madness  at  the  failure  of  his  previous  efforts,  gathered  all  his 
strength  for  a  final  blow,  which  the  cunning  savage  dodged  as  before, 
while  the  rifle,  which  by  this  time  had  become  reduced  to  the  sim 
ple  barrel,  struck  a  tree  and  flew  out  of  Joe's  hands  at  least  ten  feet 
into  the  bushes. 

The  Indian  sprung  to  his  feet  and  confronted  him.  Both  empty- 
handed,  they  stood  for  a  moment,  measuring  each  the  other's 
strength;  it  was  but  a  moment,  for  the  blood  was  flowing  freelv 
70 


JOK    LOGSTON  S    FIGHT    WITH    AN    INDIAN.  ? 

from  the  wound  in  Joe's  breast,  and  the  other  thinking  him  more 
seriously  wounded  than  he  really  was,  and  expecting  to  take  advan 
tage  of  his  weakness,  closed  with  him,  intending  to  throw  him.  In 
this,  however,  he  reckoned  without  his  host.  In  less  time  than  it 
takes  to  recount  it,  he  found  himself  at  full  length  on  his  back,  with 
Joe  on  top.  Slipping  from  under  him  with  the  agility  of  an  eel 
they  were  both  on  their  feet  again— and  again  closed.  This  time  the 
savage  was  more  wary,  but  the  same  result  followed— he  was  again 
beneath  his  opponent.  But  having  the  advantage  of  Joe,  in  being 
naked  to  his  breech-cloth,  and  oiled  from  head  to  foot,  he  could  easily 
slip  from  the  grasp  of  the  hunter  and  resume  his  perpendicular. 
Six  different  times  was  he  thrown  with  the  same  effect ;  but  victory 
—fickle  jade— seemed  disposed  to  perch  on  the  banner  of  neither  of 
the  combatants.  There  were  no  admiring  thousands  looking  on  at 
this  exciting  "mill" — no  seconds  to  insist  upon  fairness  and  preserve 
the  rules  of  the  ring — only  one  poor  wounded  spectator,  and  two 
foes  fighting  not  for  fame  but  life. 

By  this  time  they  had,  in  their  struggles  and  contortions,  returned 
to  the  open  path,  and  Joe  resolved  upon  a  change  of  tactics.  He 
was  becoming  sensibly  weaker  from  loss  of  blood,  while,  on  the 
other  hand,  the  savage  seemed  to  lose  none  of  his  strength  by  the 
many  falls  he  had  experienced.  Closing  again  in  a  close  hug,  they 
fell  as  before;  this  time,  instead  of  endeavoring  to  keep  his  antago 
nist  down,  Joe  sprung  at  once  to  his  feet,  and,  as  his  antagonist 
came  up,  dealt  him  a  blow  with  his  fist  between  the  eyes,  which, 
felled  him  like  an  ox,  at  the  same  time  falling  with  all  his  might 
upon  his  body. 

This  was  repeated  every  time  he  rose,  and  began  to  tell  with  fear 
ful  effect  upon  the  savage's  body  as  well  as  his  face,  for  Joe  was  no 
light  weight,  and  at  every  succeeding  fall  the  Indian  came  up  weaker, 
seeming  finally  disposed  to  retreat ;  this  his  opponent  decidedly  ob 
jected  to ;  his  "  spunk  was  up  ;"  he  dealt  his  blows  more  rapidly, 
until  the  savage  lay  apparently  insensible  at  his  feet.  Falling  upon 
•him,  he  grasped  the  Indian's  throat  with  a  grip  like  a  vice,  intending 
to  strangle  him.  He  soon  found  that  the  savage  was  "  playing  pos 
sum,"  and  that  some  movement  was  going  forward,  the  purport  of 
which  he  could  not  immediately  guess.  Following  with  his  eye  the 

71 


TALES   AND    TRADITIONS. 

direction  of  the  movement,  Joe  found  that  he  was  trying  to  disen 
gage  his  knife  which  was  in  his  belt,  but  the  handle  of  which  was  so 
short  that  it  had  slipped  down  beyond  reach,  and  lie  was  working  it 
up  by  pressing  on  the  point.  Joe  watched  the  effort  with  deep 
interest,  and  when  it  was  worked  up  sufficient  for  his  purpose, 
seized  it,  and  with  one  powerful  blow  drove  it  to  the  owner's  heart, 
leaving  him  quivering  in  the  agonies  of  death. 

Springing  to  his  feet  the  victor  now  bethought  him  of  the  other 
red-skin,  and  looked  around  to  discover  him.  He  still  lay,  with  his 
back  broken  by  Joe's  ball,  where  he  had  fallen,  and,  having  his 
piece  loaded,  was  trying  to  raise  himself  upright  to  fire  it ;  but  every 
time  he  brought  it  to  his  shoulder  he  would  tumble  forward  and 
have  again  to  renew  the  effort.  Concluding  that  he  had  had  enough 
fighting  for  exercise,  and  knowing  that  the  wounded  Indian  could 
not  escape,  Joe  took  his  way  to  the  fort. 

Although  he  presented  a  frightful  sight  when  he  reached  there — 
his  clothes  being  torn  nearly  from  his  person,  which  was  covered 
with  blood  and  dirt  from  his  head  to  his  feet— yet  his  account  was 
hardly  believed  by  some  of  his  comrades,  who  thought  it  one  of 
Joe's  "  big  stories,"  which  had  the  reputation  of  being  as  big  as  him 
self,  though  not  half  so  well  authenticated.  "  Go  and  satisfy  your 
selves,"  said  he;  and  a  party  started  for  the  battle-ground,  where 
their  suppositions  were  confirmed,  as  there  were  no  Indians  about, 
and  no  evidence  of  them,  except  Joe's  dead  horse  in  the  path.  On 
looking  carefully  about,  however,  they  discovered  a  trail  which  led  a 
little  way  into  the  bushes,  where  they  discovered  the  body  of  the 
big  Indian  buried  under  the  dead  leaves  by  the  side  of  a  stump. 
Following  on,  they  found  the  corpse  of  the  second,  with  his  own 
knife  thrust  into  his  heart  and  his  grasp  still  upon  it,  to  show  that 
he  died  by  his  own  hand.  Nowhere  could  they  discover  the  knife 
with  which  Joe  had  killed  the  big  Indian.  They  found  it  at  last, 
thrust  into  the  ground,  where  it  had  been  forced  by  the  heel  of  his 
wounded  companion,  who  must  have  suffered  the  most  intense  agony 
while  endeavoring  to  hide  .all  traces  of  the  white  man's  victory. 

Joe  got  the  credit  for  his  story,  while  his  comrades  universally 
lamented  that  they  had  not  been  spectators  of  this  pugilistic  encoun 
ter  between  "  big  Indian  "  and  "  big  Joe." 
72 


THE  SARGEANT'S  STRATAGEM.  9 

Another  one  of  the  forest  scenes  which  stand  out  so  vividly  in 
pictures  of  American  life,  occurs  to  us.  It  is  unique  in  its  character, 
and  will  excite  a  smile,  as  well  as  a  feeling  of  admiration  for  the 
tact  and  courage  which  enacted  it. 

In  the  early  part  of  the  Revolutionary  war,  a  sargeant  and 
twelve  armed  men  undertook  a  journey  through  the  wilderness,  in 
the  State  of  New  Hampshire.  Their  route  was  remote  from  any 
settlements,  and  they  were  under  the  necessity  of  encamping  over 
night  in  the  woods.  Nothing  material  happened  the  first  day  of 
their  excursion ;  but  early  in  the  afternoon  of  the  second,  they,  from 
an  eminence,  discovered  a  body  of  armed  Indians  advancing  toward 
them,  whose  number  rather  exceeded  their  own.  As  soon  as  the 
whites  were  perceived  by  their  red  brethren,  the  latter  made  signals, 
and  the  two  parties  approached  each  other  in  an  amicable  manner. 
The  Indians  appeared  to  be  much  gratified  with  meeting  the  sargeant 
and  his  men,  whom  they  observed  they  considered  as  their  protect 
ors  ;  said  they  belonged  to  a  tribe  which  had  raised  the  hatchet 
with  zeal  in  the  cause  of  liberty,  and  were  determined  to  do  all  in 
their  power  to  repel  the  common  enemy.  They  shook  hands  in 
friendship,  and  it  was,  "  How  d'ye  do,  pro,  how  d'ye  do,  pro,"  that 
being  their  pronunciation  of  the  word  brother.  When  they  had 
conversed  with  each  other  for  some  time,  and  exchanged  mutual 
good  wishes,  they  at  length  separated,  and  each  party  traveled  in  a 
different  direction.  After  proceeding  to  the  distance  of  a  mile  or 
more,  the  sargeant,  who  was  acquainted  with  all  the  different  tribes, 
and  knew  on  which  side  of  the  contest  they  were  respectively  ranked, 
halted  his  men  and  addressed  them  in  the  following  words  : 

"  My  brave  companions,  we  must  use  the  utmost  caution,  or  this 
night  may  be  our  last.  Should  we  not  make  some  extraordinary 
exertions  to  defend  ourselves,  to-morrow's  sun  may  find  us  sleeping 
never  to  wake.  You  are  surprised,  comrades,  at  my  words,  and 
your  anxiety  will  not  be  lessened,  when  I  inform  you,  that  we  have 
just  passed  our  most  inveterate  foe,  who,  under  the  mask  of  pre 
tended  friendship  you  have  witnessed,  would  lull  us  to  security,  and 
by  such  means,  in  the  unguarded  moments  of  our  midnight  slumber, 
without  resistance,  seal  our  fate." 

The  men  with  astonishment  listened  to  this  short  harangue ;  and 

73 


10  TALES    AND    TRADITIONS. 

their  surprise  was  greater,  as  not  one  of  them  had  entertained  the 
suspicion  but  they  had  just  encountered  friends.  They  all  imme 
diately  resolved  to  enter  into  some  scheme  for  their  mutual  preser 
vation  and  destruction  of  their  enemies.  By  the  proposal  of  their 
leader,  the  following  plan  was  adopted  and  executed  : 

The  spot  selected  for  their  night's  encampment  was  near  a 
stream  of  water,  which  served  to  cover  their  rear.  They  felled  a 
large  tree,  before  which  on  the  approach  of  night,  a  brilliant  fire  was 
lighted.  Each  individual  cut  a  log  of  wood  about  the  size  of  his 
body,  rolled  it  nicely  in  his  blanket,  placed  his  hat  upon  the  extrem 
ity,  and  laid  it  before  the  fire,  that  the  enemy  might  be  deceived, 
and  mistake  it  for  a  man.  After  logs  equal  in  number  to  the  sar- 
geant's  party  were  thus  fitted  out,  and  so  artfully  arranged  that  they 
might  be  easily  mistaken  for  so  many  soldiers,  the  men  with  loaded 
muskets  placed  themselves  behind  the  fallen  tree,  by  which  time  the 
shades  of  evening  began  to  close  arouud.  The  fire  was  supplied  in 
fuel,  and  kept  burning  brilliantly  until  late  in  the  evening,  when  it 
was  suffered  to  decline.  The  critical  time  was  now  approaching, 
when  an  attack  might  be  expected  from  the  Indians  ;  but  the  sar- 
geant's  men  rested  in  their  place  of  concealment  with  great  anxiety 
till  near  midnight,  without  perceiving  any  movement  of  the  enemy. 

At  length  a  tall  Indian  was  discovered  through  the  glimmering 
of  the  fire,  cautiously  moving  toward  them,  making  no  noise,  and 
apparently  using  every  means  in  his  power  to  conceal  himself  from 
any  one  about  the  camp.  For  a  time  his  actions  showed  him  to  be 
suspicious  that  a  guard  might  be  stationed  to  watch  any  unusual 
appearance,  who  would  give  the  alarm  in  case  of  danger  ;  but  all 
appearing  quiet,  he  ventured  forward  more  boldly,  rested  upon  his 
toes,  and  was  distinctly  seen  to  move  his  finger  as  he  numbered  each 
log  of  wood,  or  what  he  supposed  to  be  a  human  being  quietly  en 
joying  repose.  To  satisfy  himself  more  fully  as  to  the  number,  he 
counted  them  over  a  second  time,  and  cautiously  retired.  He  was 
succeeded  by  another  Indian,  who  went  through  the  same  move 
ments,  and  retired  in  the  same  manner.  Soon  after  the  whole  party, 
sixteen  in  number,  were  discovered  approaching,  and  greedily  eyeing 
their  supposed  victims.  The  feelings  of  the  sargeant's  men  can 
better  be  imagined  than  described,  when  they  saw  the  base  and  cruel 
74 


THE  SARGEANT'S  BTKATAGEM.  11 

purpose  of  their  enemies,  who  were  now  so  near  that  they  could 
scarcely  be  restrained  from  firing  upon  them.  The  plan,  however, 
of  the  sargeant,  was  to  have  his  men  remain  silent  in  their  places  of 
concealment  till  the  muskets  of  the  savages  were  discharged,  that 
their  own  fire  might  be  more  effectual,  and  opposition  less  formi 
dable. 

Their  -suspense  was  not  of  long  duration.  The  Indians,  in  a 
body,  cautiously  approached,  till  within  a  short  distance ;  they  then 
halted,  took  deliberate  aim,  discharged  their  pieces  upon  inanimate 
logs,  gave  the  dreadful  warwhoop,  and  instantly  rushed  forward  with 
tomahawk  and  scalping-knife  in  hand,  to  despatch  the  living,  and 
obtain  the  scalps  of  the  dead.  As  soon  as  they  had  collected  in 
close  order,  more  effectually  to  execute  their  horrid  intentions,  the 
party  of  the  sargeant,  with  unerring  aim,  discharged  their  pieces,  not 
on  logs  of  wood,  but  perfidious  savages,  not  one  of  whom  escaped 
destruction  by  the  snare  into  which  they  led  themselves. 

There  must  have  been  a  touch  of  grim  humor  about  that  sargeant 
as  well  as  of  cool  courage. 

Many  instances  are  on  record  of  those  days  of  danger — where 
either  in  battle  or  in  the  settlement  of  new  countries,-  the  cruel  and 
crafty  red-man  had  to  be  encountered — where  the  minds  of  men  have 
been  thrown  from  their  balance  by  the  sight  of  barbarities,  or  the 
suffering  of  afflictions,  which  overthrow  their  shuddering  reasons. 
Some  men  have  been  called  monomaniacs,  from  the  fact  of  their  rest 
less  and  rankling  hatred  of  the  race  who  had  inflicted  some  great 
misery  upon  them  or  theirs.  But  it  is  hardly  strange  that  when 
they  saw  those  savages  behave  worse  than  tigers,  they  decided  to 
treat  them  like  wild  beasts,  and  that  they  were  justified  in  the 
attempt  to  exterminate  them.  There  must  be  men  in  Minnesota,  at 
this  day,  who  are  monomaniacs  on  the  subject  of  the  red-skins.  One 
of  the  most  noted  of  these  Indian  haters  was  John  Moredock,  of 
Kentucky  ;  and  these  are  the  circumstances  which  made  him  so,  as 
given  in  a  fine  paper  on  the  early  settlers,  in  Harper's  Magazine  .for 
1861: 

Toward  the  end  of  the  last  century  there  lived  at  Yincennes  a 
woman  whose  whole  life  had  been  spent  on  the  frontier.  She  had 
been  widowed  four  or  five  times  by  the  Indians ;  her  last  husband, 

75 


IS  TALES   AND   TRADITIONS. 

whose  name  was  Moredock,  had  been  killed  a  few  years  before  the 
time  of  which  we  speak.  But  she  had  managed  to  bring  up  a  large 
family  in  a  respectable  manner.  Now,  when  her  sons  were  growing 
up,  she  resolved  to  better  their  condition  by  moving  "  West."  The 
whole  of  Illinois  was  a  blooming  waste  of  prairie  land,  except  in  a 
few  places  where  stood  the  trading-posts  built  a  hundred  years  before 
by  the  French. 

The  lower  peninsula  of  Illinois  was  not  of  a  nature  to  attract 
emigrants  when  so  much  finer  lauds  were  to  be  found  on  the  banks 
of  the  Great  River  and  its  tributaries ;  nor  was  a  land  journey  over 
that  marshy  region,  infested  as  it  was  by  roving  bauds  of  savages,  to 
be  lightly  undertaken,  when  the  two  rivers  furnished  a  so  mucu  more 
easy  though  circuitous  way  to  the  delightful  region  beyond.  Hence 
it  was  usual  for  a  company  of  those  intending  to  make  the  journey 
to  purchase  a  sufficient  number  of  pirogues,  or  keel-boats,  in  them 
descend  the  Ohio,  and  then  ascend  the  Mississippi  to  the  mouth  of 
the  Kaskaskia,  or  any  other  destined  point.  By  adopting  this  mode 
of  traveling  all  serious  danger  of  Indian  attacks  was  avoided,  except 
at  one  or  two  points  on  the  latter  stream,  where  it  was  necessary  to 
land  and  draw  the  boats  around  certain  obstructions  in  the  channel. 

To  one  of  these  companies  the  Moredock  family  joined  itself— 
several  of  the  sons  being  sufficiently  well-grown  to  take  a  part  not 
only  in  the  ordinary  labors  of  the  voyage  but  in  any  conflict  that 
might  occur.  All  went  well  with  the  expedition  until  they  reached 
the  rock  known  as  the  "  Grand  Tower"  on  the  Mississippi,  almost 
within  sight  of  their  destination.  Here,  supposing  themselves  to  be 
out  of  danger,  the  men  carelessly  leaped  on  shore  to  drag  the  boats 
up  against  the  current,  which  here  rushed  violently  around  the -base 
of  the  cliff.  The  women  and  children,  fifteen  or  twenty  in  number, 
tired  of  being  cooped  in  the  narrow  cabins  for  three  or  four  weeks, 
thoughtlessly  followed.  While  the  whole  party  were  thus  making 
their  way  slowly  along  the  narrow  space  between  the  perpendicular 
precipice  on  one  hand,  the  well-known  yell  of  savage  onset  rung  in 
their  ears,  and  a  volley  of  rifles  from  above  stretched  half  a  dozen 
of  the  number  dead  in  their  midst,  while  almost  at  the  same  mo 
ment  a  band  of  the  painted  demons  appeared  at  each  end  of  the 
fatal  pass.  The  experienced  border  men,  who  saw  at  a  glance  that 
76 


THE   GRAND   TOWER   MASSACRE.  18 

their  condition  was  hopeless,  stood  for  one  moment  overwhelmed 
with  consternation;  but  in  the  next  the  spirit  of  the  true  Indian 
fighter  awoke  within  their  hearts,  and  they  faced  their  assailants 
with  hopeless  but  desperate  valor. 

The  conflict  that  ensued  was  only  a  repetition  of  the  scene  which 
the  rivers  and  woods  of  the  West  had  witnessed  a  thousand  times 
before,  in  which  all  the  boasted  strength  and  intelligence  of  the 
whites  had  been  baffled  by  the  superior  cunning  of  the  red-men. 
"  Battle  Rock,"  "  Murder  Creek,"  "  Bloody  Run,"  and  hundreds  of 
similar  names  scattered  throughout  our  land,  are  but  so  many  char 
acters  in  that  stern  epitaph  which  the  aborigines,  during  their  slow 
retreat  across  the  continent  toward  the  Rocky  Mountains,  and  anni 
hilation,  have  written  for  themselves  in  the  blood  of  the  destroying 
race.  The  history  of  Indian  warfare  contains  no  passage  more  fear 
ful  than  is  to  be  found  in  the  narrative  of  the  massacre  at  the  Grand 
Tower  of  the  Mississippi.  Half  armed,  surprised,  encumbered  with 
their  women  and  children,  and  taken  in  so  disadvantageous  a  situa 
tion,  being  all  huddled  together  on  a  narrow  sand-beach,  with  their 
enemies  above  and  on  either  side,  their  most  desperate  efforts  availed 
not  even  to  postpone  their  fate ;  and  in  the  space  of  ten  minutes 
after  the  warning  yell  was  heard,  the  mangled  bodies  of  forty  men, 
women  and  children  lay  heaped  upon  the  narrow  strip  of  sand.  The 
conflict  had  ended  in  the  complete  destruction  of  the  emigrant  com 
pany — so  complete  that  the  savages  imagined  not  a  single  survivor 
remained  to  carry  the  disastrous  tidings  to  the  settlements. 

But  one  such  wretched  survivor,  however,  there  was.  John 
Moredock,  who,  having  fought  like  a  young  tiger  until  all  hope  of 
saving  even  a  part  of  the  unfortunate  company  was  lost,  and  who 
then,  favored  by  the  smoke,  and  the  eagerness  of  the  assailants  for 
scalps,  and  the  plunder  of  the  boats,  glided  through  the  midst  of  the 
savages  and  nestled  himself  in  a  cleft  of  the  rocks.  Here  he  lay  for 
hours,  sole  spectator  of  a  scene  of  Indian  ferocity  which  transformed 
his  young  heart  to  flint,  and  awoke  that  thirst  for  revenge  which 
continued  to  form  the  ruling  sentiment  of  his  future  life,  and  which 
raged  as  insatiably  on  the  day  of  his  death,  forty  years  later,  when 
he  had  become  a  man  of  mark,  holding  high  offices  in  his  adopted 
State,  as  it  did  when  crouching  among  the  rocks  of  the  Grand 

77 


14  TALES    AND    TRADITIONS. 

Tower;  and,  beholding  the  bodies  of  his  mother,  sisters  and  brothers 
mangled  by  the  Indian  tomahawk,  he  bound  himself  by  a  solemn 
oath  never  from  that  moment  to  spare  one  of  the  accursed  race  who 
might  come  within  reach  of  his  arm ;  and  especially  to  track  the 
footsteps  of  the  marauding  band  who  had  just  swept  away  all  that 
he  loved  on  earth,  until  the  last  one  should  have  paid  the  penalty  of 
life  for  life. 

How  long  he  remained  thus  concealed  he  never  knew  ;  but  at 
length,  as  the  sun  was  setting,  the  Indians  departed,  and  John  More- 
dock  stepped  forth  from  his  hiding-place,  not  what  he  had  entered 
it,  a  brave,  light-hearted  lad  of  nineteen,  the  pride  of  a  large  family 
circle  and  the  favorite  of  a  whole  little  colony  of  borderers,  but  an 
orphan  and  an  utter  stranger  in  a  strange  land,  standing  alone  amidst 
the  ghastly  and  disfigured  corpses  of  his  family  and  friends.  He 
had  hoped  to  find  some  life  still  lingering  amidst  the  heaps  of  car 
nage  ;  but  all,  all  had  perished.  Having  satisfied  himself  of  this 
fact,  the  lonely  boy — now  transformed  into  that  most  fearful  of  all 
beings,  a  thoroughly  desperate  man — quitted  the  place,  and,  guiding 
himself  by  the  stars,  struck  across  the  prairie  toward  the  nearest 
settlement  on  the  Kaskaslda,  where  he  arrived  the  next  morning, 
bringing  to  the  inhabitants  the  first  news  of  the  massacre  which  had 
taken  place  so  near  their  own  village,  and  the  first  warning  of  the 
near  approach  of  the  prowling  baud  which  had  been  for  several 
months  depreciating,  at  various  points  along  that  exposed  frontier, 
in  spite  of  the  treaties  lately  made  by  their  nations  with  the  Federal 
Government. 

John  Moredock  was  by  nature  formed  for  a  leader  in  times  of 
danger,  and  his  avowed  determination  to  revenge  the  massacre  of 
his  friends  and  kindred  by  the  extirpation  of  the  murderous  band 
coincided  so  exactly  with  the  feelings  of  the  frontiersmen,  that,  in 
spite  of  his  lack  of  previous  acquaintance,  he  in  a  few  days  found 
himself  at  the  head  of  a  company  of  twenty-five  or  thirty  young 
men,  whose  lives  had  been  spent  in  the  midst  of  all  kinds  of  perils 
and  hardships,  and  who  now  bound  themselves  to  their  leader  by  an 
oath  never  to  give  up  the  pursuit  until  the  last  one  of  the  marauding 
band  engaged  in  the  attack  at  Grand  Tower  should  be  slain. 

Stanch  as  a  pack  of  blood-hounds  this  little  company  of  avengers 
78 


JOHN  MOREDOCK'S  REVENGE.  15 

ranged  the  frontier  from  the  Des  Moines  to  the  Ohio,  now  almost 
within  reach  of  their  victims,  and  now  losing  all  trace  of  them  on 
the  boundless  prairies  over  which  they  roamed,  unconscious  of  the 
doom  by  which  they  were  being  so  hotly  but  stealthily  pursued. 
Once,  indeed,  the  whites  came  up  with  their  game  on  the  banks  of  a 
tributary  of  the  Missouri,  a  hundred  and  fifty  miles  beyond  the  ut 
most  line  of  the  settlements ;  but  as  the  Indians,  though  unsuspi 
cious  of  any -particular  danger,  had  pitched  their  camp  in  a  spot  at 
once  easy  to  defend  and  to  escape  from,  and  as  Moredock  wished  to 
destroy  and  not  to  disperse  them,  he  forbore  striking  a  partial  blow, 
and  resolved  rather  to  postpone,  his  revenge  than  to  enjoy  it  incom 
pletely. 

Fortune,  however,  seemed  to  repay  him  for  this  act  of  self-restraint 
by  presenting  the  very  opportunity  he  had  sought,  when,  a  few 
weeks  afterward,  he  discovered  the  whole  gang  of  marauders  en 
camped  for  the  night  oil  a  small  island  in  the  middle  of  the  Missis 
sippi.  After  a  hasty  consultation  with  his  companions,  a  course  of 
procedure  was  determined  upon  which  strikingly  displays  both  the 
'monomanical  tendency  of  the  leader  and  the  desperate  ascendancy 
he  had  acquired  over  his  followers.  This  was  nothing  less  than  to 
shut  themselves  up  on  that  narrow  sand-bar  and  to  engage  the  sav 
ages  in  a  hand-to-hand  conflict— a  conflict  from  which  neither  party 
could  retreat,  and  which  must  necessarily  end  in  the  total  destruc 
tion  of  one  or  the  other.  A  most  desperate  undertaking  truly,  when 
we  reflect  that  the  numbers  of  the  combatants  were  about  equal,  and 
that  lo  surprise  an  Indian  encampment  was  next  to  impossible.  But 
John  Moredock,  and,  probably,  more  than  one  of  his  companions, 
were  monomaniacs,  and  considerations  of  personal  danger  never  en 
tered  into  their  calculations.  Revenge,  not  safety,  was  their  object, 
and  they  took  little  thought  of  the  latter  when  the  opportunity  of 
compassing  the  former  was  presented. 

Slowly  and  stealthil}1",  therefore,  the  canoes  approached  the  island 
when  all  sounds  there  had  ceased,  and  the  flame  of  the  camp-fire 
had  sunk  into  a  pale-red  glow,  barely  marking  the  position  of  the 
doomed  party  among  the  undergrowth  with  which  the  central  por 
tion  of  the  little  isle  was  covered.  The  Indians,  confiding  in  their 
natural  watchfulness,  seldom  place  sentinels  around  their  camps ;  and 

79 


16  TALES   AND    TRADITIONS. 

thus  Moredock  and  his  baud  reached  the  island  without  being  dis 
covered.  A  few  moments  sufficed  to  set  their  own  canoes  as  well 
as  those  of  the  Indians  adrift,  and  then,  with  gun  in  hand  and  tom 
ahawk  ready,  they  glided  noiselessly,  as  so  many  panthers,  into  the 
thicket,  separating  as  they  advanced  so  as  to  approach  the  camp 
from  different  quarters.  All  remained  still  as  death  for  many  min 
utes  while  the  assailants  were  thus  closing  in  around  their  prey,  and 
not  a  twig  snapped,  and  scarcely  a  leaf  stirred  in  the  thick  jungle 
through  which  thirty  armed  men  were  making  their  way  in  as  many 
different  directions,  but  all  converging  toward  the  same  point,  where 
a  pale  glimmer  indicated  the  position  of  the  unsuspected  savages. 
But  though  an  Indian  camp  may  be  easily  approached  within  a  cer 
tain  distance,  it  is  almost  impossible,  if  there  be  any  considerable 
number  of  them,  to  actually  strike  its  occupants  while  asleep.  As 
savages,  roaming  at  large  over  the  face  of  the  continent  without 
fixed  habitations,  and  relying  upon  chance  for  the  supply  of  their 
few  wants,  they  know  nothing  of  that  regularity  of  habit  which  de 
votes  certain  fixed  portions  of  time  to  the  various  purposes  of  life, 
but  each  one  eats,  sleeps  or  watches,  just  as  his  own  feelings  may 
dictate  at  the  moment,  without  any  regard  to  established  usages  of 
time  or  place.  Hence  the  probability  of  finding  all  the  members  of 
an  Indian  party  asleep  at  the  same  time  is  small  indeed. 

On  the  present  occasion  two  or  three  warriors,  who  were  smoking 
over  the  embers,  caught  the  alarm  before  the  assailants  had  quite 
closed  in.  Still  the  surprise  gave  the  white  men  a  great  advantage, 
and  half  a  dozen  of  the  savages  were  shot  down  in  their  tracks  be 
fore  they  comprehended  the  meaning  of  the  hideous  uproar,  which 
suddenly  broke  the  midnight  stillness  as  Moredock  and  his  company, 
finding  their  approach  discovered,  rushed  in  upon  them.  This  fatal 
effect  of  the  first  volley  was  a  lucky  thing  for  the  adventurers ;  fir 
the  Indians  are  less  liable  to  panics  than  almost  any  other  people, 
and  they  closed  with  their  assailants  with  a  fury  that,  combined 
with  their  superior  skill  in  nocturnal  conflict,  would  have  rendered 
the  issue  of  the  struggle  a  very  doubtful  matter  had  the  number  of 
combatauts  been  more  nearly  even.  As  it  was,  the  nimble  warriors 
fought  their  way  against  all  odds  to  the  point  where  their  canoes 
had  been  moored.  Here,  finding  their  expected  means  of  flight 
80 


JOHN  MOREDOCK'S  REVENGE.  17 

removed,  and  exposed  upon  the  naked  sand-beach,  the  survivors  still 
made  desperate  battle  until  all  were  slain  except  three,  who  plunged 
boldly  into  the  stream,  and,  aided  by  the  darkness,  succeeded  in 
reaching  the  main  land  in  safety. 

Twenty-seven  of  those  engaged  in  the  massacre  at  the  Grand 
Tower  had  been  destroyed  at  a  single  blow.  But  three  had  escaped 
from  the  bloody  trap,  and  while  these  lived  the  vengeance  of  John 
Moredock  was  unsatisfied.  They  must  perish,  and  he  determined 
that  it  should  be  by  his  own  hand.  He  therefore  dismissed  his 
faithful  band,  and  thenceforth  continued  the  pursuit  alone.  Having 
learned  the  names  of  the  three  survivors  he  easily  tracked  them 
from  place  to  place,  as  they  roamed  about  in  a  circuit  of  three  or 
foui  hundred  miles.  Had  the  wretches  known  what  avenger  of 
blood  was  thus  dogging  their  tracks,  the  whole  extent  of  the  conti 
nent  would  not  have  afforded  space  enough  for  their  flight,  or  its 
most  retired  nook  a  sufficiently  secure  retreat.  But  quite  as  relent 
less  Moredock  pursued  his  purpose,  and  but  few  even  of  his  acquaint 
ances  knew  the  motive  of  his  ceaseless  journey  along  the  frontiers 
from  Green  Bay  to  the  mouth  of  the  Ohio,  and  far  into  the  unset 
tled  wastes  beyond  the  Mississippi. 

At  length,  about  two  years  after  the  massacre  of  his  family  at  the 
Tower,  he  returned  to  Kaskaskia,  having  completed  his  terrible  task, 
and  bearing  the  scalp  of  the  last  of  the  murderers  at  his  girdle. 

Moredock  lived  to  be  a  popular  and  leading  man  in  his  State,  an 
office-holder,  a  kind  neighbor  and  beloved  head  of  a  family,  yet  he 
never  relaxed  in  his  hatred  of  the  race  who  had  poisoned  the  fount 
ain  of  youthful  hope  for  him. 


81 


TALES    AND    TRADITIONS. 


DEBORAH  SAMPSON,  THE  MAIDEN  WARRIOR. 

THERE  comes  to  us,  from  the  days  of  chivalry,  in  song  and  story, 
legends  of  ladies  who  followed  their  lords  to  the  distant  field  of 
Palestine,  hiding  their  soft  hearts  under  the  disguise  of  the  page's 
dress.  Time,  the  romancer,  has  thrown  his  enchanting  vail  over 
their  adventures,  surrounding  them  with  the  grace  of  mystery  and 
the  glory  of  sentiment. 

Perhaps  in  the  far-away  future  of  our  immortal  republic,  young 
men  and  maidens  will  dream  over  the  story  of  DEBORAH  SAMPSON, 
the  girl-soldier  of  that  Revolution  which  won  us  our  liberties.  It 
will  not  be  said  that  she  donned  the  uniform  and  shouldered  the 
musket  for  the  sake  of  some  dear  lover,  that  she  might  ever  be  near  to 
watch  over  him  in  the  hour  of  danger,  and  to  nurse  him  if  wounded, 
with  all  the  tender  solicitude  of  woman's  love ;  but  it  will  be  told 
that  she  went  into  the  service  of  her  country  because  men  were  few 
and  her  heart  was  in  the  cause.  She  had  health  and  courage,  and 
that  high  patriotism  which  burned  alike  in  manly  and  feminine 
breasts.  That  she  was  brave,  is  proven  by  her  being  twice  wounded 
in  battle.  There  is  no  need  of  putting  any  other  construction  than 
that  of  pure  patriotism  upon  her  actions ;  the  steadiness  with  which 
she  performed  her  duties  show  that  it  was  no  wild  love  of  adventure 
which  possessed  her. 

Deborah  Sampson  was  born  in  the  county  of  Plymouth,  Massa 
chusetts.  Her  parents  were  poor  and  vicious,  and  their  children 
were  taken  from  them  by  the  hand  of  charity,  to  be  placed  with  dif 
ferent  families,  where  there  was  a  prospect  of  their  being  better  cared 
for.  Deborah  found  a  home  with  a  respectable  farmer,  by  whom  she 
was  treated  as  one  of  the  family,  except  in  the  matter  of  education. 
To  overcome  this  deprivation  she  used  to  borrow  the  books  of  school 
children,  over  which  she  pored  until  she  learned  to  read  tolerably 
well.  This  simple  fact  reveals  that  her  mind  was  no  ordinary 
one.  She  was  a  true  child  of  New  England,  ambitious  to  be 
82 


DEBORAH    SAMPSON,    THE    MAIDEN    WARRIOR.  19 

the  equal  of  those  by  whom  she  was  surrounded,  and  looking  upon 
ignorance  almost  as  degradation.  Many  of  our  now  famous  minds 
began  their,  culture  in  this  humble  way,  by  the  side  of  the  kitchen 
fire,  perhaps  with  a  pine-torch,  by  the  light  of  which  to  pursue  their 
eager  groping  after  knowledge. 

As  soon  as  the  completion  of  her  eighteenth  year  released  her 
from  indenture,  she  hastened  to  seek  a  situation  in  which  to  improve 
herself,  and  made  arrangements  with  a  family  to  work  one-half  her 
time  for  her  board  and  lodging,  while,  during  the  other  half,  she 
attended  the  district-school.  Her  improvement  was  so  rapid,  that  in 
a  comparatively  short  space  of  time  she  was  thought  competent  to 
teach,  and  by  doing  so  for  one  term,  the  ambitious  girl  amassed  the 
sum  of  twelve  dollars !  In  all  this  we  see  the  remarkable  energy 
and  force  of  character  which  enabled  her  to  carry  out  the  career  she 
afterward  chose.  The  young  bound-girl  who  so  soon  would  raise 
herself  to  the  position  of  teacher,  must  have  had  in  her  elements, 
which,  had  she  been  a  man,  would  have  urged  her  to  the  perform 
ance  of  deeds  that  would  have  given  her  prominence  in  those  stir 
ring  days. 

While  Deborah  was  teaching^  her  little  summer  school,  the  spirit 
of  resistance  to  tyranny  which  long  had  struggled  toward  the  light, 
burst  forth  over  the  whole  country,  never  to  be  hid  again.  The 
first  battle  had  been  fought  at  Lexington ;  the  sound  of  the  cannon 
had  rolled  from  Bunker  Hill  in  echoes  which  would  not  die.  They 
thrilled  and  trembled  along  the  air,  in  never-ending  vibrations,  smit 
ing  the  ears  of  patriots,  and  rousing  their  hearts  to  the  duties  and 
perils  of  the  hour.  Deborah,  in  her  little  schoolroom,  heard  the 
sound.  For  her  it  had  a  peculiar  message ;  it  called  her — she  could 
not  resist  1  Something  in  her  courageous  breast  told  her  that  she 
was  as  well  fitted  to  serve  her  beloved  country  as  the  young  men, 
who,  wLL  kindling  eyes  and  eager  feet,  were  rushing  to  its  assist 
ance.  Walking  slowly  home  from  her  school,  along  the  lonely  road, 
looking  out  at  night  from  the  little  window  of  her  chamber  at  the 
stars,  she  pondered  the  voice  in  her  heart.  The  more  she  thought, 
the  more  earnest  she  became  in  her  desire.  There  was  no  reason 
why  she  should  silence  the  resolution  which  called  her.  She  was 
accountable  to  none  ;  was  friendless,  without  kindred  or  home.  Why 

83 


*U  TALES    AND    TRADITIONS. 

was  she  given  this  vigorous  and  healthy  frame,  and  this  heroic  heart, 
if  not  for  the  service  of  her  suffering  country  ?  Perhaps  Providence 
had  loosened  her  from  other  ties,  that  she  might  attach  herself  solely 
to  this  holy  cause.  With  such  arguments  as  these  she  quieted  the 
timidity  which  arose  solely  from  maidenly  fears  that  she  might  be 
detected  in  her  plans,  and  subjected  to  the  embarrassment  of  being 
refused  or  ridiculed  on  account  of  her  sex. 

With  that  humble  wealth  of  twelve  dollars  she  purchased  the  ma 
terials  for  a  suit  of  men's  clothing.  Upon  the  cloth  she  worked 
secretly,  as  she  found  the  opportunity,  each  article,  upon  comple 
tion,  being  hidden  in  a  stack  of  hay.  When  -her  arrangements 
were  completed  she  announced  a  determination  to  seek  better  wages, 
and  took  her  departure,  without  her  real  purpose  being  suspected. 
When  far  enough  away  to  feel  secure,  she  donned  her  male  attire, 
and  pursued  her  way  to  the  American  army,  where  she  presented 
herself  in  October,  1778,  as  a  young  man  anxious  to  join  his  efforts 
to  those  of  his  countrymen  in  their  endeavors  to  oppose  the  common 
enemy.  She  is  described  as  being,  at  this  time,  of  very  prepossessing 
features,  and  intelligent,  animated  expression,  with  a  fine,  tall  form, 
and  such  an  air  of  modest  courage  and  freshness  as  inspired  confi 
dence  and  respect  in  those  who  had  become  associated  with  her. 
She  was  gladly  received,  as  a  promising  recruit,  and  enrolled  in  the 
army  under  the  name  of  Robert  Shirtliffe,  the  period  of  her  enlist 
ment  being  for  the  war. 

While  the  company  was  recruiting  she  was  an  inmate  of  the  Cap 
tain's  family,  and,  by  her  exemplary  conduct,  won  the  esteem  of  all. 
A  young  girl,  visiting  in  the  family,  was  much  in  the  company  of 
young  "  Robert ;"  and,  being  of  a  coquettish  disposition — priding 
herself,  perhaps,  on  the  conquest  of  the  young  soldier— she  suffered 
her  partiality  to  be  noticed.  "  Robert,"  having  no  objections  to  see 
how  easily  a  maiden's  heart  could  be  won,  encouraged  the  feeling, 
until  the  Captain's  wife,  becoming  alarmed,  took  occasion  to  remon 
strate  with  the  youth  upon  the  subject.  "  Robert "  took  the  matter 
in  good  part,  and  the  affair  ended  in  the  exchange  of  some  few 
tokens  of  remembrance  at  parting. 

At  the  end  of  six  or  seven  weeks,  the  company  being  full,  was 
ordered    to    join    the    main    army,   and    Deborah's   military   life 
84 


DEBORAH    SAMPSON,    THE    MAIDEN    WARRIOR.  21 

commenced  in  earnest.  The  record  does  not  give  all  the  details  of  her 
career,  though  the  record  of  a  life  in  camp  and  on  the  field,  under 
such  circumstances,  must  be  full  of  interest.  She  herself  has  said 
that  volumes  might  be  filled  with  her  adventures.  She  performed 
her  duties  to  the  entire  satisfaction  of  her  officers ;  was  a  volunteer 
on  several  expeditions  of  a  hazardous  nature,  and  was  twice  wounded 
severely ;  the  first  time  by  a  sword-cut  on  the  side  of  her  head,  and 
the  second  by  a  bullet-wound  through  the  shoulder.  She  served 
three  years,  and,  during  all  that  time,  her  sex  never  was  suspected, 
though  often  in  circumstances  where  detection  seemed  unavoidable. 
The  soldiers  nicknamed  her  "Molly,"  in  playful  allusion  to  her  want 
of  a  beard ;  but  little  did  they  suspect  that  their  gallant  comrade 
was,  indeed,  a  woman. 

The  last  wound  which  she  received,  of  a  bullet  through  her 
shoulder,  gave  her  great  uneasiness,  for  fear  that  the  surgeon,  upon 
dressing  it,  would  discover  the  deception  which  had  been  so  long 
and  so  successfully  practiced.  She  always  described  the  emotion, 
when  the  ball  entered,  to  be  one  of  mental,  not  of  physical  anguish — 
a  sickening  terror  at  the  probability  of  her  sex  being  revealed.  She 
felt  that  death  on  the  battle-field  would  be  preferable  to  the  shame 
she  would  suffer  in  such  a  case,  and  prayed  rather  to  die  than  to  be 
betrayed.  Strange  as  it  may  appear,  she  again  escaped  undetected. 
Recovering  rapidly,  she  soon  resumed  her  place  in  the  ranks,  as 
brave  and  willing  as  ever. 

Sickness,  however,  was  destined  to  bring  about  the  catastrophe 
which  the  perils  of  the  battle-field  had  never  precipitated.  She  was 
seized  with  brain  fever,  then  prevailing  among  the  soldiers.  For  the 
few  days  that  reason  struggled  with  the  disease  her  sufferings  were 
great ;  and  these  were  intensely  aggravated  by  her  mental  anxiety — 
that  ever-present  fear,  lest,  during  her  unconsciousness,  her  carefully- 
guarded  secret  should  become  known.  She  was  carried  to  the  hospital, 
where  the  number  of  the  patients  and  the  negligent  manner  in 
which  they  were  attended  still  secured  her  escape.  Her  case  was 
considered  hopeless,  on  which  account  she  received  still  less  atten 
tion.  She  continued  to  sink,  until  consciousness  was  gone,  and  life 
itself  trembled  on  the  faintest  breath  which  ever  held  it. 

One  day,  the  surgeon  of  the  hospital    inquiring   "how   Robert 

85 


22  TALES   AND    TRADITIONS. 

was  ?"  received  assurance  from  the  nurse  that  "  poor  Bob  was  gone." 
Going  to  the  bed,  and  taking  the  wrist  of  the  youth,  he  found  the 
pulse  still  feebly  beating.  Attempting  to  place  his  hand  on  the 
heart,  he  found  a  bandage  bound  tightly  over  the  breast.  Then  it 
was  that  the  secret  of  the  girl-soldier  became  known  to  the  physi 
cian  ;  but  if  she  had  been  his  own  daughter  he  could  not  have 
guarded  it  more  delicately.  Deborah  had  fallen  into  good  hands,  in 
this  crisis  of  her  affairs. 

It  was  Dr.  Biruey,  of  Philadelphia,  who  was  then  in  attendance  at 
the  hospital.  Without  communicating  his  discovery  to  any  one,  he 
gave  his  patient  such  care  that  she  was  raised  from  the  grave,  as  it 
were ;  and  when  sufficiently  recovered  to  be  removed,  he  had  her 
conveyed  to  his  own  house,  where  she  was  the  recipient  of  every 
kind  attention  from  the  family  as  long  as  she  remained  r.n  invalid. 
And  now  occurred  another  of  those  romantic  episodes  which  give 
an  interest  to  the  history  of  our  hero-heroine.  If  Deborah  Sampson 
had  indeed  been  the  "  Robert "  she  professed  to  be,  she  would  have 
been  a  favorite  with  the  softer  sex ;  since,  without  her  ceeking  it, 
twice  the  affections  of  fair  maidens  were  laid  at  her  feet.  We  may 
conjecture,  to  the  credit  of  the  fair  sex,  that  the  purity  and  modesty 
of  "  Robert " — his  unassuming  excellence  and  womanly  goodness,  had 
much  to  do  with  success  in  this  line. 

A  niece  of  the  doctor's,  a  young  and  wealthy  lady,  became  in 
terested  in  the  youth  whom  she  had  aided  in  restoring  to  health,  by 
her  attentions.  "  Pity,"  which  is  "  akin  to  love,"  gradually  melted 
into  that  warmer  feeling.  The  modest  and  handsome  young  man, 
who  shrunk  from  taking  the  slightest  advantage  of  he"  kindness, 
aroused  all  the  compassion  and  sensibility  of  her  heart.  Lovely  and 
young,  conscious  that  many,  more  influential  than  he,  would  be 
honored  to  sue  for  her  hand,  she  yet  allowed  her  affectio.is  to  turn 
to  the  pale  and  unassuming,  the  humble  and  poor,  soldier.  The 
uncle  was  warned  of  his  imprudence  in  allowing  the  yojmg  couple 
to  be  so  much  together,  but  he  laughed  in  his  sleeve  at  such  sugges 
tions,  tickling  his  fancy  with  the  idea  of  how  foolish  the  censorious 
would  feel  when  the  truth  should  be  made  known.  He  had  not 
confided  his  knowledge  even  to  the  members  of  his  own  lamily.  It 
is  not  probable  that  he  really  believed  his  niece's  feelings  were 
86 


DEBORAH    SAMPSON,    THE    MAIDEN    WARRIOR.  23 

becoming  so  warmly  interested,  or  lie  would  have  given  her  a  suffi 
cient  caution  ;  she  was  allowed  to  be  with  the  convalescent  as  much 
as  she  liked. 

At  first  the  heart  of  "Robert"  opened  to  this  innocent  and  lovely 
girl,  whom  she  loved  as  a  sister,  and  whose  gentle  kindness  was  so 
winning;  she  showed  the  gratitude  which  she  felt,  and  perhaps  even 
confided  to  her  some  of  the  lonely  emotions  which  had  so  long 
remained  unspoken  in  her  breast ;  but  it  was  not  long  before  the 
young  soldier,  warned  by  past  experience,  felt  apprehensive  of  the 
return  of  affection  which  she  received,  and  strove,  delicately,  to 
withdraw  from,  the  painful  position  in  which  she  was  being  placed. 
Taking  this  shrinking  embarrassment  for  the  sensitive  modesty  of 
one  who,  friendless  and  poor,  dared  not  aspire  to  the  hand  of  one  so 
much  above  him  in  social  position,  the  fair  heiress,  trusting  the 
evident  goodness  of  his  heart,  and  actuated  alike  by  love  and  the 
noblest  generosity,  made  known  her  attachment  to  "  Robert,"  and 
signified  her  willingness  to  furnish  him  the  means  of  fitting  himself 
for  such  a  station,  and  then  to  marry  him. 

When  Deborah  beheld  this  guileless  young  creature,  with  blushes 
and  tears,  making  this  unexpected  and  unwelcome  avowal,  she  felt, 
with  bitter  pain,  the  position  in  which  she  was  placed.  Then  she 
wished  that  she  indeed  was  the  Robert  Shirtliffe  she  had  assumed  to 
be,  rather  than  wound  the  feelings  of  one  to  whom  she  was  so  much 
indebted,  by  a  refusal  of  what  had  been  so  timidly  offered.  Yet  to 
reveal  her  true  character  would  be  still  more  awkward  and  painful. 
The  wounded  sensibility  of  the  young  girl  did  not,  in  that  hour, 
cause  her  so  much  suffering,  as  the  remorse  and  regret  of  the  false 
"Robert"  caused  him. 

Saying  that  they  should  meet  again,  and  that,  though  ardently 
desiring  an  education,  she  could  not  accept  her  noble  offer,  Deborah 
endeavored  to  hurt  the  sensitive  girl  as  little  as  possible,  while  with 
drawing  from  the  dilemma  in  which  she  was  placed.  Shortly  after, 
she  departed,  taking  with  her  several  articles  of  clothing,  such  as  in 
those  days  were  frequent  gifts  to  the  soldiers  from  the  hands  of  fair 
women,  and  which  were  pressed  upon  her  acceptance  by  the  young 
lady. 

The  denouement  rapidly  followed  her  recovery.  The  physician 

87 


24  TALES    AND    TRADITIONS. 

had  a  conference  with  the  commanding  officer  of  the  company  with, 
which  Robert  had  served,  which  was  followed  by  an  order  to  the 
youth  to  carry  a  letter  to  General  Washington.  She  now  became 
aware,  for  the  first  time,  that  her  secret  was  known,  and  that  detec 
tion  was  no  longer  avoidable.  She  had  suspected  that  Dr.  Birney 
knew  more  than  he  had  given  intimation  of,  but  her  most  anxious 
scrutiny  of  his  words  and  countenance  had  never  assured  her  of  the 
truth  of  her  fears.  Now  that  the  worst  was  come,  she  Lad  no  way 
but  to  meet  it  with  that  courage  which  was  a  part  of  her  nature. 
Yet  she  would  rather  have  faced  the  fire  of  the  British  cannon  than 
to  have  confronted  Washington  with  that  letter  in  her  hand. 

Trembling  and  confused,  she  presented  herself  before  the  Com- 
rnander-in-Chief,  who,  noticing  her  extreme  agitation,  with  his  usual 
kindness  endeavored  to  restore  her  confidence ;  but  finding  her  still 
so  abashed,  bade  her  retire  with  an  attendant,  who  was  ordered  to 
procure  her  some  refreshment,  while  the  General  read  the  letter  of 
which  she  had  been  the  bearer. 

When  she  was  recalled  to  his  presence,  he  silently  put  into  her 
hand  a  discharge  from  service,  along  with  a  brief  note  of  advice,  and 
a  sum  of  money  sufficient  to  bear  her  to  some  place  where  she 
might  find  a  home.  Very  glad  and  grateful  was  she  to  escape  thus 
unrebuked  out  of  that  presence. 

After  the  war  she  married ;  and  while  Washington  was  President 
she  paid  a  visit  -to  the  seat  of  Government  on  his  invitation.  She 
was  received  with  every  attention.  Congress  was  then  in  session, 
and  passed  a  bill  granting  her  a  pension  for  life.  She  lived  in 
comfortable  circumstances,  passing  from  the  stage  of  human  life  at  an 
advanced  age. 

It  is  probable  that,  after  several  generations  of  historians,  poets 
and  romance  writers  have  embellished  the  story  of  Deborah  Samp 
son,  she  will  become  invested,  to  the  eyes  of  our  descendants,  with 
a  glory  like  that  which  encircles  the  memory  of  the  Maid  of  Orleans. 

There  is  an  incident  of  a  most  romantic  and  touching  nature, 
connected  with  the  history  of  the  brave  Sergeant  Jasper,  of  Marion's 
brigade.  A  young  girl,  in  this  instance,  followed  the  fortunes  of 
war,  not  out  of  patriotic  motives,  like  those  which  inspired  Deborah 
Sampson,  but  impelled  by  a  love  which  no  wildest  romance  of  the 


SALLY    ST.    CLAIR.  27 

olden  time  can  more  than  match.  The  page  who  drew  the  poison 
from  her  lover's  wound,  on  the  distant  plains  of  the  Holy  Land, 
proved  not  so  devoted  as  this  young  American  girl,  throwing  her 
tender  bosom  between  Jasper's  heart  and  death. 

Sergeant  Jasper  was  one  of  the  bravest  of  Marion's  men,  possess 
ing  remarkable  talents  as  a  scout,  and  often  chosen  for  such  expe 
ditions.  He  was  one  of  those  of  whom  Bryant  says  : 

"Our band  is  few,  but  true  and  tried, 

Our  leader  frank  and  bold ; 
The  British  soldier  trembles 

When  Marion's  name  is  told. 
Our  fortress  is  the  good  greenwood, 

Our  tent  the  cypress  tree  ; 
We  know  the  forest.'round  us, 

As  seamen  know  the  sea. 
We  know  its  walls  of  thorny  vines, 

Its  glades  of  reedy  grass, 
Its  safe  and  silent  islands 

Within  the  dark  morass." 

Sometime  just  before,  or  about  the  beginning  of  the  war,  Jasper 
had  the  good  fortune  to  save  the  life  of  a  young,  beautiful,  and  dark- 
eyed  Creole  girl,  called  Sally  St.  Clair.  Her  susceptible  nature  was 
overcome  with  gratitude  to  her  preserver,  and  this  soon  ripened  into 
a  passion  of  love,  of  the  most  deep  and  fervent  kind.  She  lavished 
upon  him  the  whole  wealth  of  her  affections,  and  the  whole  depths 
of  a  passion  nurtured  by  a  Southern  sun.  When  he  was  called  upon 
to  join  the  ranks  of  his  country's  defenders,  the  prospect  of  their 
separation  almost  maddened  her.  Their  parting  came,  but  scarcely 
was  she  left  alone,  ere  her  romantic  nature  prompted  the  means  of 
a  reunion.  Once  resolved,  no  consideration  of  danger  could  dampen 
her  spirit,  and  no  thought  of  consequences  could  move  her  purpose. 
She  severed  her  long  and  jetty  ringlets,  and  provided  herself  with 
male  attire.  In  these  she  robed  herself,  and  set  forth  to  follow  the 
fortunes  of  her  lover. 

A  smooth-faced,  beautiful  and  delicate  stripling  appeared  among 
the  hardy,  rough  and  giant  frames'  who  composed  the  corps  to 
which  Jasper  belonged.  The  contrast  between  the  stripling  and 
these  men,  in  their  uncouth  garbs,  their  massive  faces,  embrowned 
and  discolored  by  sun  and  rain,  was  indeed  striking.  But  none 

91 


28  TALES    AND    TRADITIONS. 

were  more  eager  for  the  battle,  or  so  indifferent  to  fatigue,  as  the 
fair-faced  boy.  It  was  found  that  his  energy  of  character,  resolution 
and  courage  amply  supplied  his  lack  of  physique.  None  ever  sus 
pected  him  to  be  a  woman.  Not  even  Jasper  himself,  although  she 
was  often  by  his  side,  penetrated  her  disguise. 

The  romance  of  her  situation  increased  the  fervor  of  her  passion. 
It  was  her  delight  to  reflect  that,  unknown  to  him,  she  was  by  his 
side,  watching  over  him  in  the  hour  of  danger.  She  fed  her  passion 
by  gazing  upon  him  in  the  hour  of  slumber,  hovering  near  him  when 
stealing  through  the  swamp  and  thicket,  and  being  always  ready  to 
avert  danger  from  his  head. 

But  gradually  there  stole  a  melancholy  presentiment  over  the  poor 
girl's  mind.  She  had  been  tortured  with  hopes  deferred ;  the  war 
was  prolonged,  and  the  prospect  of  being  restored  to  him  grew  more 
and  more  uncertain.  But  now  she  felt  that  her  dream  of  happiness 
could  never  be  realized.  She  became  convinced  that  death  wa« 
about  to  snatch  her  away  from  his  side,  but  she  prayed  that  she 
might  die,  and  he  never  know  to  what  length  the  violence  of  her 
passion  led  her. 

It  was  an  eve  before  a  battle.  The  camp  had  sunk  into  repose. 
The  watchfires  were  burning  low,  and  only  the  slow  tread  of  sen 
tinels  fell  upon  the  profound  silence  of  the  night  air,  as  they  moved 
through  the  dark  shadows  of  the  forest.  Stretched  upon  the  ground, 
with  no  other  couch  than  a  blanket,  reposed  the  warlike  form  of 
Jasper.  Climbing  vines  trailed  themselves  into  a  canopy  above  his 
head,  through  which  the  stars  shone  down  softly.  The  faint  flicker 
from  the  expiring  embers  of  a  fire  fell  athwart  his  countenance,  and 
tinged  the  cheek  of  one  who  bent  above  his  couch.  It  was  the 
smooth-faced  stripling.  She  bent  low  down  as  if  to  listen  to  his 
dreams,  or  to  breathe  into  his  soul  pleasant  visions  of  love  and  hap 
piness.  But  tears  trace  themselves  down  the  fair  one's  cheek,  and 
fall  silently  but  rapidly  upon  the  brow  of  her  lover.  A  mysterious 
voice  has  told  her  that  the  hour  of  parting  has  come  ;  that  to-morrow 
her  destiny  is  consummated.  There  is  one  last,  long,  lingering  look, 
and  then  the  unhappy  maid  is  seen  to  tear  herself  away  from  the 
spot,  to  weep  out  her  sorrows  in  privacy. 

Fierce  and  terrible  is  the  conflict  that  on  the  morrow  rages  on 
92 


EMILY    GEIGEB.  29 

that  spot.  Foremost  in  the  battle  is  the  intrepid  Jasper,  and  ever 
by  his  side  fights  the  stripling  warrior.  Often  during  the  heat  and 
the  smoke,  gleams  suddenly  upon  the  eyes  of  Jasper  the  melancholy 
face  of  the  maiden.  In  the  thickest  of  the  fight,  surrounded  by 
enemies,  the  lovers  fight  side  by  side.  Suddenly  a  lance  is  leveled 
at  the  breast  of  Jasper ;  but  swifter  than  the  lance  is  Sally  St.  Clair. 
There  is  a  wild  cry,  and  at  the  feet  of  Jasper  sinks  the  maiden,  with 
the  life-blood  gushing  from  the  white  bosom,  which  had  been  thrown, 
as  a  shield,  before  his  breast.  He  heeds  not  now  the  din,  nor  the 
danger  of  the  conflict,  but  down  by  the  side  of  the  dying  boy  he 
kneels.  Then  for  the  first  time  does  he  learn  that  the  stripling  is 
his  love ;  that  often  by  the  camp-fire,  and  in  the  swamp,  she  had 
been  by  his  side ;  that  the  dim  visions,  in  his  slumber,  of  an  angel 
face  hovering  above  him,  had  indeed  been  true.  In  the  midst  of  the 
battle,  with  her  lover  by  her  side,  and  the  barb  still  in  her  bosom, 
the  heroic  maiden  dies  ! 

Her  name,  her  sex,  and  her  noble  devotion  soon  became  known 
through  the  corps.  There  was  a  tearful  group  gathered  around  her 
grave;  there  was  not  one  of  those  hardy  warriors  who  did  not 
bedew  her  grave  with  tears.  They  buried  her  near  the  river 
Sautee,  "  in  a  green,  shady  nook,  that  looked  as  if  it  had  been  stolen 
out  of  Paradise." 

The  ^yomen  of  the  Revolution  won  a  noble  name  by  the  part  they 
took  in  the  conflict  which  has  secured  for  their  descendants  so  glo 
rious  an  inheritance.  Privations  of  all  kinds  they  endured  patiently, 
joyfully  sending  their  dearest  ones  to  the  field,  while  they  remained 
in  their  lonely  homes,  deprived  of  the  care  and  society  of  fathers  and 
sons ;  finding  their  pleasantest  relief  from  the  heart-ache  of  grief  and 
suspense  in  labors  at  the  loom  or  with  the  needle  for  the  benefit  of 
the  ill-provided  soldiers. 

Many  individual  instances  of  female  heroism  are  preserved,  where 
the  bravery  of  naturally  timid  hearts  was  tested  in  exposure  to  the 
rudest  vicissitudes  of  war.  They  played  the  parts  of  spies,  messen 
gers,  and  defenders.  Among  other  anecdotes  we  have  one  of  a 
young  girl  of  North  Carolina.  At  the  time  General  Greene  retreated 
before  Lord  Rawdon  from  Ninety-Six,  when  he  had  passed  Broad 
Riyer,  he  was  very  desirous  to  send  an  order  to  General  Sumter, 

93 


30  TALES   AND    TRADITIONS. 

who  was  on  the  Wateree,  to  join  him,  that  they  might  attack  Raw- 
tlon,  who  had  divided  his  force.  But  the  General  could  find  no 
man  in  that  portion  of  the  State  who  was  bold  enough  to  undertake 
so  dangerous  a  mission.  The  country  to  be  passed  through  for 
many  miles  was  full  of  bloodthirsty  Tories,  who,  on  every  occasion 
that  offered,  imbrued  their  hands  in  the  blood  of  the  Whigs.  At 
length  this  young  girl,  Emily  Geiger,  presented  herself  to  General 
Greene,  proposing  to  act  as  his  messenger,  and  he,  both  surprised 
and  delighted,  closed  with  her  proposal.  He  accordingly  wrote  a 
letter  and  delivered  it,  while,  at  the  same  time,  he  communicated 
the  contents  of  it  verbally,  to  be  told  to  Sumter,  in  case  of  accident. 

She  started  off  on  horseback,  and  on  the  second  day  of  her  jour 
ney  was  intercepted  by  Lord  Rawdou's  scouts.  Coming  from  the 
ifrrection  of  Greene's  army,  and  not  being  able  to  tell  an  untruth 
without  blushing,  Emily  was  suspected  and  confined  to  a  room  ;  but 
as  the  officer  in  command  had  the  delicacy  not  to  search  her  at  the 
time,  he  sent  for  an  old  Tory  matron  to  perform  the  duty.  Emily 
was  not  wanting  in  expedient ;  as  soon  as  the  door  was  closed,  and 
the  bustle  a  little  subsided,  she  ate  up  the.  Utter,  piece  by  piece.  After 
a  while  the  matron  arrived,  who  found  nothing  of  a  suspicious  nature 
about  the  prisoner,  though  she  made  a  careful  search,  and  the  young 
girl  would  disclose  nothing.  Suspicion  being  thus  allayed,  the 
officer  commanding  the  scouts  suffered  Emily  to  depart  whither  she 
said  she  was  bound ;  she  took  a  circuitous  route  to  avoid  further 
detection,  soon  after  striking  into  the  road  which  led  to  Su niter's 
camp,  where  she  arrived  in  safety.  Here  she  told  her  adventure  and 
delivered  Greene's  verbal  message  to  Sumter,  who,  in  consequence, 
soon  after  Joined  the  main  army  at  Orangeburg.  This  young 
heroine  afterward  married  a  rich  planter,  named  Therwits,  who  lived 
on  the  Congaree. 

A  similar  adventure  is  related  of  Miss  Moore,  daughter  of  Captain 
Moore,  who  was  present  at  Braddock's  defeat,  and  who  died  in  1770. 
This  girl  was  also  a  "  daughter  of  the  Carolinas."  Alas,  that  the 
fair  descendants  of  women  so  brave  as  these,  should  aid  in  imperiling 
the  country  and  the  cause  for  which  their  mothers  sacrificed  and 
suffered  so  much ! 

Her  youth  was  passed  among  the  eventful  scenes  of  our  Revolution, 
94 


BEHETHLAND    MOORE.  31 

and  a  number  of  incidents  are  related,  that  go  to  prove  her  calm 
courage,  and  her  inflexibility  of  purpose.  She  was  born  in  1764, 
and,  therefore,  in  the  earlier  part  of  the  contest  was  nothing  more 
than  a  child. 

The  terrors  of  the  war  were  often  enacted  before  the  very  door  of 
her  step-father's  residence.  On  one  occasion,  a  most  sanguinary 
skirmish  took  place  just  before  the  house,  between  a  body  of  Colonel 
Washington's  cavalry  and  some  of  Rawdon's  men.  Shortly  after,  a 
party  of  the  British  in  search  of  plunder  broke  into  the  house.  But 
the  family  had  been  forewarned,  and  concealed  their  treasures.  In 
searching  for  plunder  they  discovered  a  quantity  of  apples,  and 
began  to  roll  them  down  the  stairs,  while  the  soldiers  below  picked 
them  up.  Miss  Moore,  nothing  fearing,  commanded  them  to  desist, 
with  an  air  so  determined  and  resolute,  that  an  officer  standing  by, 
admiring  so  courageous  a  spirit  in  a  girl  so  young,  ordered  the 
soldiers  to  obey  her. 

On  another  occasion,  a  party  of  Tories,  in  pillaging  the  house, 
commanded  one  of  the  servants  to  bring  them  the  horses.  Miss 
Moore  commanded  him  not  to  obey.  The  Tories  repeated  the  order, 
accompanied  with  a  threat  to  beat  him  if  he  refused.  The  command 
of  the  young  girl  was  reiterated,  and  just  as  the  Tory  was  about 
putting  his  threat  into  execution,  she  threw  herself  between  them, 
and  preserved  the  slave  from  the  intended  violence. 

At  one  time,  great  danger  was  threatening  Captain  Wallace,  who 
commanded  a  small  force,  a  few  miles  distant.  It  was  of  the  utmost 
importance  that  this  intelligence  should  be  conveyed  to  him,  but 
there  was  no  male  whose  services  could  be  commanded,  and,  there 
fore,  Miss  Moore  volunteered  to  convey  the  message  herself.  This 
was  when  she  was  but  fifteen.  Midnight  was  chosen  as  the  hour, 
and  accompanied  by  her  little  brother  and  a  female  friend,  she  set 
out  in  a  canoe  up  the  river  toward  the  encampment  of  the  Whigs. 
Silently  and  swiftly  they  propelled  their  frail  vessel  up  the  dark 
current,  through  forests  buried  in  darkness,  and  a  profound  silence 
that  awed  them;  with  the  calm  stars  above,  and  the  deep  river 
gloomily  rolling  by,  and  no  human  sounds  to  relieve  the  oppressive 
solemnity  of  the  hour.  It  was  the  hour,  too,  when  the  enemy 
usually  set  out  on  their  marauding  expeditions,  and  the  young  girls 

95 


32  TALKS    AND    TRADITIONS. 

knew  that  neither  their  sex  nor  their  innocence  would  preserve  them 
from  ruthless  foes,  who  were  more  relentless  and  cruel  than  the 
swarthy  savages  of  the  forest.  But  the  fate  of  many  of  their  coun 
trymen  depended  on  their  exertions,  and,  as  it  proved,  the  future 
destiny  of  our  heroine  was  involved  in  the  successful  issue  of  their 
enterprise.  Undismayed  by  the  perils  of  the  journey,  the  jroung 
girls  bent  their  energies  to  the  task  before  them,  and  at  last  saw 
lights  glimmering  in  the  distance,  that  pointed  out  their  destination. 
They  soon  reached  the  encampment,  a  picturesque  scene,  with  the 
ruddy  glow  from  the  camp-fires  casting  the  surrounding  scene  in 
still  greater  shadow,  and  motley  groups  of  figures  gathered  around 
the  fires,  sleeping,  talking,  eating,  etc.  After  delivering  the  warning 
to  Captain  Wallace,  the  girls  embarked  in  their  canoe  to  return,  and 
soon  left  the  encampment  behind,  winding  their  way  through  dense 
forests,  and  reached  their  home  in  safety. 

The  next  morning,  a  handsome  and  gallant-looking  American 
officer  rode  up  to  the  door  of  Captain  Savage's  residence,  and 
requested  to  make  a  few  inquiries  of  the  young  lady  by  whose 
•  energy  and  zeal  her  countrymen  had  been  saved  from  an  impending 
danger.  Miss  Moore  appeared,  and  when  her  youthful  and  bloom 
ing  beauty  greeted  the  eyes  of  the  3roung  officer,  an  exclamation  of 
pleasure  burst  from  his  lips.  He  almost  forgot  to  make  his  inqui 
ries,  until  reminded  by  the  blushing  damsel,  but  her  voice  rather 
increased  than  relieved  his  embarrassment.  All  his  questions  having 
been  at  last  answered,  and  having  no  excuse  by  which  to  prolong 
the  interview,  he  was  reluctantly  compelled  to  depart,  but  his  eyes 
to  the  last  rested  on  the  fair  girl's  form.  It  is  said  that  the  young 
lady  was  no  less  struck  with  the  handsome  dragoon's  figure,  and 
that  his  face  came  often  to  her  in  her  dreams  that  night. 

It  was  not  long  before  the  young  officer  made  an  excuse  for  again 
visiting  the  house  where  resided  the  beauty  who  had  bound  him 
captive  to  her  charms,  and  as  these  impressions  were  reciprocal,  he 
soon  discovered  welcome  in  her  manner,  and  drew  happy  auguries 
therefrom.  He  became  an  accepted  suitor.  But  their  love,  in  a 
measure,  verified  the  old  adage.  The  step-father  opposed  the  union  ; 
at  first  strenuously,  but  the  perseverance  of  the  lover  gradually  broke 
down  his  opposition,  and  he  eventually  yielded  consent, 


LYDIA    DARRAH.  33 

This  officer  was  Captain,  afterward  General,  Butler.  They  were 
married  in  1784.  Mrs.  Butler  filled  a  distinguished  place  in  society, 
being-  celebrated  both  for  her  virtues  and  graces. 

Even  the  meek  spirit  of  the  non-resisting  Quakers  was  roused  to 
patriotic  ardor  by  the  noble  stake  for  which  the  battles  of  the  Revo 
lution  were  fought.  In  proof  of  what  one  of  their  women  did  in  aid 
of  the  good  cause,  \ve  have  the  following  account  of  a  signal  service 
rendered  by  a  Quakeress : 

When  the  British  army  held  possession  of  Philadelphia,  General 
Harris'  head-quarters  were  in  Second  street,  the  fourth  door  below 
Spruce,  in  a  house  which  was  before  occupied  by  General  Cadwala- 
der.  Directly  opposite,  resided  William  and  Lydia  Darrah,  mem 
bers  of  the  Society  of  Friends.  A  superior  officer  of  the  British 
army,  believed  to  be  the  Adjutant-General,  fixed  upon  one  of  their 
chambers,  a  back  room,  for  private  conference  ;  and  two  of  them 
frequently  met  there,  with  fire  and  candles,  in  close  consultation. 
About  the  second  of  December,  the  Adjutant-General  told  Lydia  that 
vhey  would  be  in  the  room  at  seven  o'clock,  and  remain  late,  and 
that  they  wished  the  family  to  retire  early  to  bed ;  adding,  that 
when  they  were  going  away,  they  would  call  her  to  let  them  out, 
and  extinguish  their  fire  and  caudles.  She  accordingly  sent  all  the 
family  to  bed  ;  but,  as  the  officer  had  been  so  particular,  her  curiosity 
was  excited.  She  took  off  her  shoes,  and  pu,t  her  ear  to  the  key 
hole  of  the  conclave.  She  overheard  an  order  read  for  all  the 
British  troops  to  march  out,  late  in  the  evening  of  the  fourth,  and 
attack  General  Washington's  army,  then  encamped  at  White  Marsh. 
On  hearing  this,  she  returned  to  her  chamber  and  laid  herself  down. 
Soon  after,  the  officers  knocked  at  her  door,  but  she  rose  only  at  the 
third  summons,  having  feigned  to  be  asleep.  Her  mind  was  so 
much  agitated  that,  from  this  moment,  she  could  neither  eat  nor 
sleep,  supposing  it  to  be  in  her  power  to  save  the  lives  of  thousands 
of  her  countrymen,  but  not  knowing  how  she  was  to  convey  the 
necessary  information  to  General  Washington,  nor  daring  to  confide 
it  even  to  her  husband.  The  time  left  was,  however,  short ;  she 
quickly  determined  to  make  her  way,  as  soon  as  possible,  to  the 
American  outposts.  She  informed  her  family,  that,  as  they  were  in 
want  of  flour,  she  would  go  to  Frankfort  for  some  ;  her  husband 
23  97 


34  TALES    AND    TRADITIONS. 

insisted  that  she  should  take  with  her  the  servant-maid,  but,  to  his 
surprise,  she  positively  refused.  She  got  access  to  General  Howe, 
and  solicited — what  he  readily  granted — a  pass  through  the  British 
troops  on  the  lines.  Leaving  her  bag  at  the  mill,  she  hastened 
toward  the  American  lines,  and  encountered  on  her  way  an  Ameri 
can,  Lieutenant-Colonel  Craig,  of  the  light  horse,  who,  with  some  of 
his  men,  was  on  the  look-out  for  information.  He  knew  her,  and 
inquired  whither  she  was  going.  She  answered,  in  quest  of  her 
son,  an  officer  in  the  American  army,  and  prayed  the  Colonel  to 
alight  and  walk  with  her.  He  did  so,  ordering  his  troops  to  keep 
in  sight.  To  him  she  disclosed  her  momentous  secret,  after  having 
obtained  from  him  the  most  solemn  promise  never  to  betray  her 
individually,  since  her  life  might  be  at  stake  with  the  British.  He 
conducted  her  to  a  house  near  at  hand,  directed  a  female  in  it  to 
give  her  something  to  eat,  and  he  speeded  for  head-quarters,  where 
he  brought  General  Washington  acquainted  with  what  he  had  heard. 
Washington  made,  of  course,  all  preparation  for  baffling  the  medi 
tated  surprise,  Lydia  returned  home  with  her  flour ;  sat  up  alone 
to  watch  the  movement  of  the  British  troops ;  heard  their  footsteps ; 
but  when  they  returned,  in  a  few  days  after,  did  not  dare  to  ask  a 
question,  though  solicitous  to  learn  the  event.  The  next  evening, 
the  Adjutant-General  came  in,  and  requested  her  to  walk  up  to  his 
room,  as  he  wished  to  put  some  questions.  She  followed  him  in 
terror ;  and  when  he  locked  the  door,  and  begged  her,  with  an  air 
of  mystery,  to  be  seated,  she  was  sure  that  she  was  either  suspected 
or  had  been  betrayed.  He  inquired  earnestly  whether  any  of  her 
family  were  up  the  last  night  he  and  the  other  officer  met ;  she  told 
him  that  they  all  retired  at  eight  o'clock.  He  observed  :  "  I  know 
you  were  asleep,  for  I  knocked  at  your  chamber  door  three  times 
before  you  heard  me ;  I  am  entirely  at  a  loss  to  imagine  who  gave 
Washington  information  of  our  intended  attack,  unless  the  walls  of 
the  house  could  speak.  When  we  arrived  near  White  Marsh,  we 
found  all  their  cannon  mounted,  and  the  troop  prepared  to  receive 
us ;  and  we  have  marched  back  like  a  parcel  of  fools." 

In  contrast  with  these,  and  hundreds  of  similar  instances  of  cour 
age  and  sagacity  combined  with  ardent  patriotism,  the  occasions 
upon  which  American  women  played  the  part  of  traitors  are  few 


MRS.    BENEDICT    ARNOLD.  35 

indeed.  Efforts  have  been  made,  of  late  years,  to  affix  to  the 
memory  of  the  wife  of  Benedict  Arnold  a  still  blacker  ignominy 
than  that  which  blasted  the  name  of  the  husband  whom  she  is  said 
to  have  persuaded  into  his  treachery.  In  a  "  Life  of  Aaron  Burr," 
published  three  or  four  years  ago,  we  have  a  story  whose  truth  we 
may  well  doubt,  unsupported  as  it  is  by  any  corroborative  evidence : 

"  It  fell  to  Burr's  lot  to  become  acquainted  with  the  repulsive 
truth.  He  was  sitting  one  evening  with  Mrs.  Prevost  (his  future 
wife),  when  the  approach  of  a  party  of  horse  was  heard,  and  soon 
after,  a  lady,  vailed  and  attired  in  a  riding-habit,  burst  into  the  room, 
and  hurrying  toward  Mrs.  Prevost,  was  on  the  point  of  addressing 
her.  Seeing  a  gentleman  present,  whom,  in  the  dim  light  of  the 
room,  she  did  not  recognize,  she  paused,  and  asked,  in  an  anxious 
tone : 

"  *  Am  I  safe  ?     Is  this  gentleman  a  friend  ?' 

"'Oh,  yes,'  was  Mrs.  Prevost'a  reply;  'he  is  my  most  particular 
friend,  Colonel  Burr.' 

"  '  Thank  God  !'  exclaimed  Mrs.  Arnold,  for  she  it  was.  '  I've 
been  playing  the  hypocrite,  and  I'm  tired  of  it.' 

"  She  then  gave  an  account  of  the  way  she  had  deceived  General 
Washington,  Colonel  Hamilton  and  the  other  American  officers,  who, 
she  said,  believed  her  innocent  of  treason,  and  had  given  her  an 
escort  of  horse  from  West  Point.  She  made  no  scruple  of  confessing 
the  part  she  had  borne  in  the  negotiations  with  the  British  General, 
and  declared  it  was  she  who  had  induced  her  husband  to  do  what 
he  had  done.  She  passed  the  night  at  Paramus,  taking  care  to  act 
the  part  of  the  outraged  and  frantic  woman  whenever  strangers  were 
present.  Colonel  Burr's  relations  with  the  Shippen  family,  of  which 
Mrs.  Arnold  was  a  member,  had  been  of  the  most  intimate  character 
from  boyhood.  They  had  been  his  father's  friends  ;  and  the  orphan 
boy  had  been  taken  from  his  mother's  grave  to  their  home  in  Phila 
delphia.  He  stood  toward  this  fascinating,  false-hearted  woman 
almost  in  the  light  of  a  younger  brother,  and  he  kept  her  secret  until 
she  was  past  being  harmed  by  the  telling  of  it." 

Now  Colonel  Burr  was  not  present  at  that  interview,  but  was  told 
of  it,  some  time  after,  by  Mrs.  Prevost,  then  Mrs.  Burr.  We  should 

hesitate   before   we   consigned   Mrs.  Arnold   to  infamy  upon   such 

99 


36  TALES   AND    TRADITIONS. 

testimony.  It  is  true  that  the  authorities  of  Philadelphia  were  sus 
picious  of  her,  as  they  compelled  her,  against  her  will,  to  leave  the 
city  and  go  to  her  husband.  On  the  other  side,  it  is  said  that  she 
declared  her  abhorrence  of  her  husband's  crime,  and  her  desire  for  a 
separation  from  him,  after  his  treachery  ;  that  her  father  and  brother, 
influential  persons  in  Philadelphia,  begged  for  her  not  to  be  banished 
to  one  from  whom  her  heart  r-ecoiled,  and  that  she  promised  never 
to  write  to  her  husband,  or  to  receive  any  letters  from  him  except 
such  as  the  authorities  should  read,  if  permitted  to  remain  with  her 
family.  Such,  however,  was  the  feeling  against  her,  that  she  was 
compelled  to  leave  the  State.  If  these  proceedings  against  her  were 
just,  swift  was  the  punishment  which  overtook  the  traitress,  for  she 
never  realized  the  brilliant  position  which  she  hoped  to  achieve  by 
going  over  to  the  king's  side,  and  has  left  only  infamy  as  a  legacy  to 
the  future.  But  if  she  were,  indeed,  as  innocent  as  we  have  good 
reason  for  hoping  was  the  case,  it  is  melancholy  to  think  of  her 
gentle  soul  being  crushed  beneath  the  weight  of  retribution  which 
fell  upon  her  husband,  and  thus  also  upon  her. 


MORGAN'S  PRAYER. 

THERE  never  was  a  man  so  bold  that  his  soul  has  not,  at  times,  felt 
its  own  powerlessness,  and  silently  appealed  to  the  mighty  God  for 
a  strength  to  sustain  it  in  the  hour  of  need.  Daniel  Morgan,  as 
rough  and  self-reliant  as  he  was  brave,  did  not  hesitate  to  confess 
chat  more  than  once  in  the  hour  of  approaching  trial,  when  the 
weight  of  responsibility  was  more  than  he  could  bear,  he  threw  off 
the  burden  of  his  cares  and  fears  at  His  feet  who  bears  the  destinies 
of  the  universe. 

"  Ah,"  said  he,  on  one  occasion,  "  people  thought  that  Morgan  was 
never  afraid — people  said  that  *  Dan  Morgan  never  prayed.'     I'll  tell 
you  what  it  is,  Daniel  Morgan,  as  wicked  as  he  was,  has  prayed  as 
hard  and  as  earnestly  as  ever  a  man  prayed  in  this  world." 
100 


MORGAN'S  PRAYER.  37 

We  look  back  now  with  pride  to  the  victory  of  the  Cowpens, 
which  was  one  of  Morgan's  most  glorious  achievements.  But  before 
that  battle  was  fought,  while  it  was  being  decided  upon  and  prepared 
for,  one  of  those  moments  occurred  to  the  intrepid  leader,  of  inward 
dismay  and  trouble,  which  it  would  never  do  to  disclose  to  his  men, 
looking  to  him  for  direction  and  example.  It  is  not  strange  that 
his  soul  was  troubled.  His  whole  command  consisted  of  not  more 
than  six  hundred  men — three  hundred  infantry  under  Lieutenant- 
Colonel  Howard,  two  hundred  Virginia  riflemen,  and  about  one 
hundred  gallant  dragoons  under  Colonel  Washington.  With  this 
little  band  he  was  retreating,  with  consummate  prudence,  before  the 
"  haughty  Tarleton,"  who  had  been  sent  by  Cornwallis,  to  force  him 
into  action,  with  eleven  hundred  veteran  soldiers,  besides  two  field- 
pieces  well  served  by  artillerists.  Tarleton  had  light  and  legion 
infantry,  fusileers,  three  hundred  and  fifty  cavalry,  and  a  fine  bat 
talion  of  the  Seventy-First  regiment ;  he  promised  himself  an  easy 
victory  over  the  American  "  wagoner,"  as  well  he  might,  with  the 
forces  at  his  disposal. 

Boldly  he  pursued  the  retreating  enemy,  expecting  to  overtake 
only  to  destroy  him.  But  he  had  now  to  encounter  a  General  who 
had  braved  the  snows  of  Camden,  had  scaled  the  walls  of  Quebec, 
and  had  faced  the  legions  of  Burgoyne.  With  the  greatest  prudence, 
Morgan  retreated  until  he  reached  the  memorable  field  of  Cowpens, 
near  one  of  the  branches  of  the  Pacolet  river.  Here,  in  the  face  of 
superior  numbers,  as  well  as  superior  arms  and  discipline,  he  resolved 
to  make  a  stand.  He  communicated  his  design  to  his  inferior 
officers,  who  with  ready  spirit  prepared  the  minds  of  their  men  for 
the  combat.  These,  hating  the  British  for  their  late  oppressions, 
burning  with  the  love  of  liberty  and  the  desire  for  revenge,  and 
placing  implicit  confidence  in  the  wisdom  of  the  General  who  ordered 
the  battle,  declared  themselves  ready  for  the  fray. 

Morgan's  arrangement  was  simple  but  masterly,  showing  a  perfect 
knowledge  of  the  character  both  of  his  own  force  and  that  of 
Tarleton.  In  the  open  wood  which  formed  the  Cowpeus,  he  estab 
lished  three  lines.  The  first  consisted  of  the  militia  under  Colonel 
Pickens,  a  brave  officer  who  had  been  recently  relieved  from  captivity 
•among  the  English.  The  next  line  embraced  all  the  regular  infantry 

101 


88  TALEiS    AND    TRADITIONS. 

and  the  Virginia  riflemen,  and  was  commanded  by  Lieutenant-Colonel 
Howard.  The  third  was  formed  by  "Washington's  dragoons,  and 
about  fifty  mounted  militia  armed  with  pistols  and  swords.  Know- 
tug  that  the  militia,  though  full  of  courage,  were  liable  to  panics, 
Morgan  directed  that  the  first  line,  if  overpowered,  should  gradually 
retire  and  form  on  the  right  and  left  of  the  second. 

Thus  prepared,  he  awaited  the  attack  of  the  foe,  who  had  come 
up,  and  was  rapidly  forming  in  the  front.  His  face  did  not  betray 
the  trepidation  of  his  heart.  He  knew  how  much  depended  upon 
the  result,  and  when  he  looked  upon  his  own  small  army,  composed 
of  such  rude  material,  wretchedly  equipped  and  but  poorly  disci 
plined,  and  his  gaze  wandered  through  the  open  forest  and  rested 
upon  veteran  troops  with  whom  he  was  about  to  contend,  his  heart 
failed  him.  Not  daring  to  betray  his  despondency  to  those. who 
looked  up  to  him  for  the  courage  so  much  needed,  in  that  solitary 
and  friendless  hour,  when  even  the  brave  officers  by  his  side  could 
give  no  comfort  to  his  mental  trouble,  the  rough,  heroic  General 
made  God  his  friend  and  adviser.  In  a  quiet  dell  just  back  of  the 
spot  where  his  reserve  was  posted,  he  found  a  large  tree  which  had 
been  blown  up  by  the  roots.  Hidden  by  the  branches  of  this  giant 
of  the  forest,  he  threw  himself  upon  his  knees  before  the  Lord  of 
battles,  beseeching  Him  to  wield  the  lance  of  delivery  on  the  side 
of  those  who  were  fighting  for  their  homes,  their  families  and  their 
liberties.  With  an  impulsive  force  characteristic  of  his  nature,  he 
wrestled  with  his  Maker,  with  an  energy  of  spirit  and  a  power  of 
language  scarcely  to  be  expected  in  one  so  unused  to  the  "  melting 
mood."  Rising  from  his  knees  with  feelings  relieved,  and  an 
oppressive  weight  taken  from  his  soul,  he  returned  to  the  lines, 
where  he  cheered  his  men  in  his  own  blunt,  impulsive  manner,  and 
was  replied  to  by  shouts  and  huzzas  which  showed  on  their  part  a 
determination  to  do  or  die. 

When  Tarleton  found  his  foe  drawn  up  in  battle  order,  he  rejoiced 
in  the  hope  of  a  speedy  victory,  and  though  his  troops  were  some 
what  fatigued  by  a  rapid  march,  he  gave  orders  for  a  charge.  Before 
his  first  line  was  perfectly  formed,  he  placed  himself  at  its  head,  and 
in  person  rushed  to  the  onset.  Colonel  Pickens  ordered  his  men 
not  to  fire  until  their  adversaries  were  within  fifty  yards,  and  their 
102 


MORGAN'S  PRAYER.  89 

fire  was  delivered  with  great  steadiness  and  severe  effect.  But  so 
impetuous  was  the  British  charge,  that  the  militia  gave  way,  and 
attempted  to  form  on  the  second  line. 

At  the  head  of  his  fusileers  and  legion,  Tarleton  pressed  upon  the 
regulars  and  riflemen,  who,  notwithstanding  their  stern  resistance, 
were  borne  down  by  numbers,  and  forced  to  yield  their  ground. 
The  British  regarded  their  victory  as  secured,  and  for  a  moment  the 
hearts  of  the  republicans  failed.  But  Morgan  was  everywhere, 
encouraging  his  men  by  his  voice  and  presence.  At  this  time,  when 
their  very  success  had  caused  some  confusion  among  the  fusileers, 
Washington,  at  the  head  of  his  dragoons,  made  a  furious  charge,  and 
dashing  in  among  them,  overthrew  them  in  a  moment.  His  horses 
passed  over  the  British  infantry  like  a  storm,  and  the  swords  of  his 
men  hewed  them  down  with  resistless  fury.  In  this  happy  crisis 
Howard  succeeded  in  restoring  the  Continentals  to  order,  while 
Pickens  rallied  the  militia,  and  brought  them  again  into  line. 

"  By  the  wind  the  smoke-cloud  lifted  lightly  drifted  to  the  nor' ward, 

And  displayed,  in  all  their  pride,  the  scarlet  foe ; 
We  beheld  them,  with  a  steady  tramp  and  fearless  moving  forward. 
With  their  banners  proudly  waving,  and  their  bayonets  leveled  low. 

"Morgan  gave  his  order  clearly  :  'Fall  back  nearly  to  the  border 

Of  the  hill,  and  let  the  enemy  come  nigher !' 

Oh,  they  thought  we  had  retreated,  and  they  charged  in  fierce  disorder, 
When  out  rang  the  voice  of  Howard :  '  To  the  right,  about  face !  fire  !' 

"  Then  upon  our  very  wheeling  came  the  pealing  of  our  volley, 

And  our  balls  made  a  red  pathway  down  the  hill ; 

Broke  the  foe,  and  shrunk  and  cowered;  rang  again  the  voice  of  Howard  : 
'  Give  the  hireling  dogs  the  bayonet !'  and  we  did  it  with  a  will." 

Struck  with  astonishment  at  finding  themselves  thus  assaulted  by 
men  they  had  just  regarded  as  defeated,  the  English  troops  wavered 
and  broke  in  disorder.  In  vain  their  officers  endeavored  to  rally 
them,  for  a  renewed  stand.  The  spirits  of  the  patriots  were  roused, 
and  pressing  forward  with  their  bayonets,  they  carried  every  thing 
before  them.  Nearly  two  hundred  of  Tarleton's  horse,  and  among 
them  the  haughty  Tarlelon  himself,  retreated  in  dismay  from  the 
field,  riding  over  their  comrades  and  involving  them  in  hopeless 
confusion.  The  Americans  gained  the  two  field-pieces,  and  Colonel 
Howard,  coming  up  with  a  large  body  of  infantry,  and  summoning 

103 


40  TALES   AND   TRADITIONS. 

them  to  surrender,  they  laid  down  their  arms  on  the  field.  The  rout 
of  the  British  was  complete;  a  more  signal  victory  our  forces  had 
never  obtained.  Washington  and  his  horse  followed  the  flying  foe 
for  several  hours  ;  Tarleton  himself  narrowly  escaped  falling  into  the 
hands  of  his  determined  pursuer. 

May  we  not  safely  conjecture  that  after  this  brilliant  success 
Morgan  returned  thanks  to  the  Lord  of  victories  as  ardently  as  he 
had  implored  him  for  aid  ? 

On  another  occasion,  previous  to  this,  Morgan  had  knelt  in  the 
snows  of  Canada,  to  beseech  the  blessing  of  God  upon  an  undertaking 
as  important  as  it  was  arduous.  It  was  in  1775.  Montgomery  was 
already  in  Canada,  where  partial  success  had  crowned  his  arms  ;  but 
the  capture  of  Quebec  was  deemed  all-important,  and  to  insure  it, 
Washington  resolved  to  send  a  detachment  across  the  unexplored 
country  between  the  province  of  Maine  and  the  St.  Lawrence  River. 
To  form  any  idea  of  the  difficulty  of  this  route  it  must  be  remem 
bered  that  the  whole  of  that  region  was  then  covered  by  gloomy 
forests,  in  which  even  the  red-man  could  hardly  find  subsistence, 
and  that  in  the  winter  season  the  country  was  bound  in  ice  and 
snow.  To  command  the  expedition,  Colonel  Benedict  Arnold  was 
selected,  and  Morgan,  then  a  Captain,  eagerly  sought  a  service  so 
congenial  to  his  habits  and  character. 

The  whole  detachment  consisted  of  eleven  hundred  men,  who 
were  formed  into  three  divisions.  After  ascending  the  Kenncbec  as 
far  as  it  was  navigable,  they  were  forced  to  take  the  forest  roads. 
Morgan,  at  the  head  of  his  riflemen,  formed  the  vanguard,  upon 
whom  devolved  the  duty  of  exploring  the  country,  sounding  the 
fords,  pioneering  for  his  companions,  and  seeking  out  spots  where 
the  bateaux  might  again  be  employed  in  the  streams.  They  were  then 
forced  to  pass  through  forests  where  men  had  never  dwelt,  to  scale 
rugged  hills,  to  contend  with  torrents  swollen  with  the  snow-storms 
of  that  region,  to  wade  through  marshes  which  threatened  to  ingulf 
them.  Not  only  the  baggage  of  the  army,  but  often  their  boats  were 
borne  upon  their  shoulders  at  those  places  where  the  river  was 
frozen,  or  where  rapids  and  cataracts  impeded  their  progress.  The 
sufferings  of  this  devoted  baud  can  not  be  exaggerated.  No  subsist 
ence  could  be  obtained  from  the  country,  and  to  their  other  trials 
104 


MORGAN'S  PRAYER.  43 

was  added  that  of  famine.  They  were  driven  to  feed  upon  their 
dogs,  and  even  upon  the  leather  of  their  shoes,  before  they  reached 
the  first  settlement  of  Canadians,  and  astonished  them  by  their 
account  of  their  achievements. 

The  spirit  which  endured  such  trials  was  the  best  surety  of  their 
success.  But  reinforcements  had  been  received  in  Quebec.  The 
garrison  was  prepared,  and  Arnold,  after  making  some  demonstra 
tions,  retired  to  Point  au  Tremble,  twenty  miles  distant,  to  await  the 
coining  of  Montgomery.  When  the  two  forces  were  joined,  they 
were  yet  inadequate  to  the  attack  of  the  strongest  fortress  in  America  ; 
but  the  hero  who  now  commanded  the  Americans  could  not  endure 
the  thought  of  retreat. 

On  the  last  day  of  the  year  1775,  in  the  midst  of  a  furious  snow 
storm,  the  memorable  attack  was  made.  On  this  occasion  it  was,  as 
Morgan  confessed  afterward,  that  he  was  "afraid" — but  fear,  to  his 
nature,  was  not  a  passion  which  weakened  him,  but  which  urged 
him  on.  It  was  not  for  himself,  personally,  that  he  was  afraid  ;  no, 
he  dreaded  the  effect  of  a  defeat  upon  his  country ;  he  could  not  see, 
without  shrinking,  his  brave  friends  and  comrades  rushing  upon 
what  seemed  like  death  in  the  land  of  the  enemy.  In  his  own 
words  we  have  his  thoughts  : 

"  The  night  we  stormed  Quebec,  while  I  was  waiting  with  my 
men,  in  the  cold,  driving  storm,  for  the  word  to  advance,  I  felt 
unhappy ;  I  looked  up  at  the  frowning  battlements  above  me,  and 
then  around  upon  my  armful  of  men,  and  felt  that  the  enterprise  was 
more  than  perilous ;  I  felt  that  nothing  short  of  a  miracle  could  pre 
vent  our  being  destroyed  in  a  contest  where  we  fought  at  such  an 
immense  disadvantage.  With  such  feelings  I  stepped  aside,  and 
kneeling  down  in  the  snow,  alongside  an  old  gun,  with  the  storm 
beating  into  my  face,  I  poured  out  my  soul  in  an  humble  petition  to 
God,  beseeching  him  to  be  my  shield  and  protection  in  the  coming 
struggle — for  nothing  but  an  Almighty  arm  could  save  us — and  I 
really  and  sincerely  feel  that  I  owed  my  safety  to  the  interposition 
of  Providence,  and  I  thought  so  at  the  time." 

In  the  attack  which  followed,  and  which  was  unsuccessful,  Mor 
gan  did  all  that  a  brave  man  could  do.  He  scaled  the  walls  of  the 
fortress,  and  sprung  down  alone  amid  the  surprised  garrison,  though 

107 


44  TALES   AND    TRADITIONS. 

speedily  followed  by  numbers  of  his  men.  The  enemy,  appalled  by 
such  heroism,  fell  back  to  the  second  barrier,  and  here,  had  he  been 
properly  supported,  Morgan  might  have  been  again  successful ;  but 
the  men  had  rendered  their  guns  useless;  the  riflemen  who  hud 
followed  him  were  unsupported ;  to  face  a  double  row  of  bayonets 
and  climb  a  wall  was  beyond  the  power  of  the  most  desperately 
brave.  After  an  obstinate  resistance  Morgan  and  his  corps  were 
forced  to  surrender. 

So  much  did  Morgan's  bravery  impress  the  English,  that,  when  a 
prisoner  in  their  hands,  he  was  offered  the  rank  of  Colonel  in  the 
English  service,  and  many  persuasive  reasons  were  given  why  he 
should  accept  it.  It  need  not  be  said  that  he  rejected  the  temptation 
with  scorn. 

General  Daniel  Morgan  was  born  of  Welch  parentage,  in  New 
Jersey,  in  the  year  1736.  Like  so  many  of  our  most  illustrious 
heroes,  he  was  a  "  self-made  man."  His  family,  which  belonged  to  the 
"  middle  class,"  had  an  interest  in  some  Virginia  lands,  to  attend  to 
which  he  visited  that  colony  when  about  seventeen  years  old. 
Glowing  with  health,  and  full  of  that  love  of  adventure  which  always 
characterized  him,  he  determined  to  remain  in  Virginia,  and  begin 
the  business  of  life  for  himself.  He  had  money  enough  for  the  pur 
chase  of  a  wagon  and  pair  of  horses.  With  these  he  entered  upon 
the  employment  which  gave  him  the  name  of  the  "wagoner"  long 
after  he  had  risen  to  military  fame.  He  remained  near  Winchester 
for  about  two  years.  When  General  Braddock's  army  commenced 
its  march  against  Fort  Duquesne  it  was  accompanied  by  several 
corps  of  provincial  troops.  Morgan,  the  "  ruling  passion"  thus  early 
displaying  itself,  joined  one  of  these  corps.  He  drove  his  own  team 
in  the  baggage-train.  On  the  way  occurred  one  of  those  instances, 
too  frequent  in  military  experience,  where  the  power  of  an  officer  is 
used  with  meanness  and  tyrannj'  against  the  soldier  in  his  power. 
The  ruggedness  of  the  way  causing  much  trouble  with  the  train,  and 
Morgan's  team  becoming  impeded,  along  with  many  others,  a  British 
Officer  approached  him,  and,  with  much  impatience  demanded  why 
he  did  not  move  along.  He  replied  that  he  would  move  as  soon  as 
he  was  able.  The  officer,  yielding  to  his  irritable  temper,  with 
unmerited  harshness  declared  that  if  he  did  not  move  along  he  would 
108 


MORGAN'S  PRAYER.  45 

run  him  through  with  his  sword.  The  high  spirit  of  the  wagoner- 
hoy  could  not  brook  this  insult ;  he  gave  a  fierce  reply,  when  the 
officer  at  once  made  a  pass  at  him  with  his  weapon.  Morgan  held 
in  his  hand  a  heavy  wagon-whip ;  parrying  the  stroke  with  the 
quickness  of  thought,  he  closed  with  his  superior;  the  sword  was 
broken  in  the  struggle ;  then,  using  his  whip  with  the  skill  which 
long  practice  had  given  him,  he  inflicted  upon  the  Englishman  a 
severe  castigation.  Such  a  breach  of  military  law  of  course  was 
not  to  be  forgiven.  Morgan  was  tried  by  a  court-martial,  which 
sentenced  him  to  receive  five  hundred  lashes.  The  sentence  was 
carried  into  effect.  The  young  victim  bore  this  horrible  punishment 
with  mute  heroism,  silently  fainting  from  torture  and  exhaustion, 
while  fifty  lashes  were  yet  in  reserve,  which  were  of  necessity 
remitted.  Three  days  afterward,  tire  officer  who  had  been  the  occa 
sion  of  this  barbarity  became  convinced  of  his  injustice,  and,  seeking 
Morgan  in  the  camp  hospital,  implored  his  forgiveness.  Through 
this  miserable  occurrence,  the  brave  young  volunteer  was  disabled 
from  duty,  and  escaped  the  danger  and  disgrace  of  Braddock's 
defeat. 

Not  long  after  his  return  from  this  unhappy  campaign,  he  was 
appointed  an  ensign  in  the  colonial  service.  His  merit  had  become 
apparent  to  the  Government  of  the  colony ;  already  he  had  won  the 
friendship  of  Washington,  which  afterward  availed  him  on  many 
trying  occasions.  His  known  courage  and  activity  caused  him  to  be 
employed  in  the  most  dangerous  services.  On  one  occasion,  accom 
panied  by  two  soldiers,  he  was  carrying  dispatches  to  one  of  the 
frontiers  of  Virginia,  infested  by  cunning  and  ferocious  savages. 
While  in  cautious  progress  through  the  forest,  unaware  that  any  eye 
was  upon  them,  or  any  stealthy  step  tracking  them  fatally  and 
silently,  suddenly  the  discharge  of  rifles  was  heard ;  his  two  com 
panions  fell  dead  by  his  side.  Morgan  himself  received  the  only 
severe  wound  he  ever  had  during  his  military  career ;  a  rifle  ball 
entered  the  back  of  his  neck,  and,  shattering  his  jaw,  passed  out 
through  his  left  cheek.  Though  he  believed  himself  mortally 
wounded,  his  presence  of  mind  did  not  fail.  Leaning  forward  on 
his  saddle,  he  grasped  the  mane  of  his  horse,  and  pressing  the  spurs 
into  his  sides,  darted  forward  at  full  speed  toward  the  fort,  A  single 

109 


46  TALES    AND    TRADITIONS. 

Indian  followed,  him,  eager  for  his  scalp.  Morgan,  in  after  years, 
oflen  spoke  of  the  appearance  of  this  savage,  who  ran  with  his  month 
open,  and  his  tomahawk  raised  to  strike  the  fatal  blow.  Finding 
his  pursuit  in  vain,  the  Indian  finally  threw  the  tomahawk  with  all 
his  force,  hoping  it  would  hit  the  soldier;  but  it  fell  short;  the 
horse,  with  his  bleeding  rider,  gained  the  fort.  Morgan  was  per 
fectly  insensible  when  taken  from  the  animal ;  but  proper  treatment, 
and  the  vigor  of  his  constitution,  restored  him  to  health  in  six 
months. 

From  this  time  until  the  commencement  of  the  Revolutionary 
War,  he  remained  in  Frederick,  employed  in  his  old  business  as  a 
wagoner.  At  this  time,  he  was  wild  and  reckless,  proud  of  his 
immense  strength,  inclining  to  rough  society,  fond  of  the  most 
rollicking  pastimes,  and  even,  it  is  said,  frequenting  the  gaming 
table.  His  nature  was  of  that  active  and  superabundant  kind,  that 
he  could  not  live  without  excitement ;  that  which  in  times  of  idle 
ness  became  a  fault,  or  almost  a  crime,  leading  him  into  wild 
excesses,  was  the  same  energy  which,  as  soon  as  there  was  a  noble 
object  for  its  exercise,  sprung  to  the  labor  of  defending  liberty. 

It  is  said  that  pugilistic  encounters  were  his  daily  pastime— such 
from  the  fact  that  he  was  usually  the  victor.  Few  men  of  his  time 
encountered  him  without  signal  defeat.  But  though  Morgan  was 
generally  successful,  we  have  an  account  of  a  reverse  which  he 
experienced,  too  salutary  in  the  lesson  it  inculcated  to  be  lost. 
General  Carson,  of  Frederick  county,  Virginia,  where  the  affair  took 
place,  tells  the  anecdote  as  one  entirely  authentic  : 

"  Passing  along  a  road  with  his  wagon,  Morgan  met  a  gentleman 
of  refined  manners  and  appearance,  who,  as  he  approached  the 
wagoner,  had  his  hat  struck  off  by  a  bough  overhead.  This  stopped 
him  for  a  moment,  and  Morgan,  thinking  that  the  stranger  felt  undue 
pride  in  sustaining  the  character  of  a  gentleman,  determined  to 
humble  him.  Alighting  from  his  horse — which  he  rode,  teamster- 
fashion,  instead  of  driving — he  addressed  the  traveler: 

" '  Well,  sir,  if  you  want  a  fight,  I'm  ready  for  you  !' 

"  The  stranger,  in  amazement,  assured  him  that  he  wanted  no  fight, 
and  had  made  no  signals  to  such  a  purpose.  But  Morgan  was  not 
to  be  thus  repulsed,  and  urged  a  contest  upon  him,  until  the  stranger, 
110 


MORGAN'S  PRAYER.  47 

becoming  enraged,  in  short  terms  accepted  the  challenge.  The 
battle  commenced.  In  brief  space  the  well-dressed  man  planted 
such  a  series  of  rapid  and  scientific  blows  upon  Morgan's  front,  that 
he  knocked  him  down,  and  inflicted  upon  him  a  severe  chastisement. 
Morgan  never  forgot  this  reverse ;  he  found  that  he  was  not  the  only 
man  in  the  world— that  '  might  did  not  make  right.'  He  often  spoke 
of  it  afterward  as  having  had  a  happy  effect  upon  his  character." 

In  after  years,  he  gained  more  dignity  of  character,  these  youthful 
ebullitions  merging  into  deeds  of  valor  of  which  his  country  is  proud. 

Immediately  upon  the  breaking  out  of  the  Revolutionary  War,  he 
stood  ready'  to  aid  his  country.  Congress  appointed  him  a  Captain 
of  provincials,  and  so  great  was  his  reputation,  that,  in  a  short  time 
after  his  call  for  recruits,  ninety-six  riflemen  were  enrolled  in  his 
company.  This  was  the  nucleus  of  that  celebrated  rifle  corps  which 
rendered  so  much  brilliant  service  during  the  war.  It  was  composed 
of  men  who  had  been  trained  in  the  forest,  and  who  had  each  been 
accustomed  to  the  use  of  his  own  rifle  with  wonderful  skill.  They 
were  hardy  in  body  and  dauntless  in  heart.  From  this  time  on,  his 
career  was  one  of  glory,  although  the  hardships  which  he  suffered 
finally  undermined  his  splendid  health,  and  forced  him  to  retire,  with 
the  rank  of  Major-General,  to  his  estate  near  Winchester,  called 
"  Saratoga,"  after  one  of  the  places  where  he  had  distinguished 
himself. 

It  was  here  that  he  died  in  1802,  in  the  67th  year  of  his  age.  A 
passer-by  would  hardly  notice  the  humble  slab,  of  little  pretension, 
which  marks  his  grave  in  the  Presbyterian  church-yard,  at  Win 
chester  ;  yet  on  it  is  inscribed  a  name  which  Americans  will  ever 
delight  to  honor :  "  The  hero  of  Quebec,  of  Saratoga,  and  the  Cow- 
pens  :  the  bravest  among  the  brave,  and  the  Ney  of  the  West." 

In  Irving's  Life  of  Washington  we  have  read  an  amusing  account 
of  an  impromptu  fray,  one  party  to  which  was  a  corps  of  Virginia 
riflemen,  very  likely  to  be  those  commanded  by  Morgan,  in  which 
it  would  appear  as  if  the  early  habits  of  their  leader  had  infected  his 
men,  and  in  which  the  immortal  Washington  himself  appears  in  a 
new  and  picturesque  attitude.  "  A  large  party  of  Virginia  riflemen," 
says  the  author,  "  who  had  recently  arrived  in  camp,  were  strolling 

about  Cambridge,  and  viewing  the  collegiate  buildings,  now  turned 

111 


48  TALES    AND    TRADITIONS. 

into  barracks.  Their  half-Indian  equipments,  and  fringed  and  ruffled 
hunting-garbs,  provoked  the  merriment  of  some  troops  from  Marble- 
head,  chiefly  fishermen,  and  sailors,  who  thought  nothing  equal  to 
the  round-jacket  and  trowsers.  A  bantering  ensued  between  them. 
There  was  snow  upon  the  ground,  and  snow-balls  began  to  fly  when 
jokes  were  wanting.  The  parties  waxed  warm  with  the  contest. 
They  closed  and  came  to  blows ;  both  sides  were  reinforced,  and  in 
a  little  while  at  least  a  thousand  were  at  fisticuffs,  and  there  was  a 
tumult  in  the  camp  worthy  of  the  days  of  Homer.  *  At  this  juncture,' 
writes  our  informant,  '  Washington  made  his  appearance,  whether 
by  accident  or  design,  I  never  knew.  I  saw  none  of  his  aids  with 
him ;  his  black  servant  just  behind  him,  mounted.  He  threw  the 
bridle  of  his  own  horse  into  his  servant's  hands,  sprung  from  his 
saddle,  rushed  into  the  thickest  of  the  melee,  seized  two  tall,  brawny 
riflemen  by  the  throat,  keeping  them  at  arm's  length,  talking  to  and 
shaking  them.'  As  they  were  from  his  own  province,  he  may  have 
felt  peculiarly  responsible  for  their  good  conduct ;  they  were  engaged, 
too,  in  one  of  those  sectional  brawls  which  were  his  especial  abhor 
rence;  his  reprimand  must,  therefore,  have  been  a  vehement  one. 
He  was  commanding  in  his  serenest  moments,  but  irresistible  in  his 
bursts  of  indignation.  On  the  present  occasion,  we  are  told,  his 
appearance  and  rebuke  put  an  instant  end  to  the  tumult.  The 
veteran  who  records  this  exercise  of  military  authority,  seems  at  a 
loss  which  most  to  admire,  the  simplicity  of  the  process,  or  the  vigor 
with  which  it  was  administered.  '  Here,'  writes  he,  '  bloodshed, 
imprisonments,  trials  by  court-martial,  revengeful  feelings  between 
the  different  corps  of  the  army,  were  happily  prevented  by  the 
physical  and  mental  energies  of  a  single  person,  and  the  only 
damaging  result  from  the  fierce  encounter  was  a  few  torn  hunting- 
frocks  and  round-jackets.' " 

We  may  well  believe  that  what  was  done  by  Washington  was 
well  done,  even  to  the  stilling  of  this  Homeric  tumult. 

Occasions  of  great  danger  and  trial  were  so  frequent  that  the 
leaders  of  the  Revolution  had  recourse  to  prayer  more  frequently,  we 
are  led  to  believe,  than  history  mentions  One  anecdote  is  told  of 
Washington's  having  been  overheard  supplicating  at  the  throne  of 
grace,  but  how  can  we  conceive  the  Father  of  his  Country  as  other 
112 


WASHINGTON    AT    PRAYER.  49 

than  the  devout  leader  who  at  all  times  felt  and  "acknowledged 
the  hand  of  Providence  over  him  ?  The  anecdote  specially  referred 
to  was  related  by  Potts,  the  Quaker.  During  the  winter  of  1777,  the 
Continental  army  was  encamped  at  Valley  Forge— a  suffering,  dis 
pirited,  yet  still  patriotic  little  host.  Clothing  was  scant,  food  was 
scarce,  numbers  were  too  few  for  opposing  the  triumphant  foe,  and 
all  things  seemed  to  betoken  a  most  inauspicious  future  for  the  patriot 
cause.  Washington,  outwardly  firm,  resolved,  and  apparently  not 
dissatisfied,  was,  as  his  correspondence  shows,  deeply  concerned  for 
the  result  of  the  early  spring  campaign ;  and  that,  in  his  hour  of 
trial,  he  prayed  for  aid  from  on  high  we  can  well  believe. 

One  day,  Potts  had  occasion  to  go  to  a  certain  place,  which  led 
him  through  a  large  grove,  at  no  great  distance  from  head-quarters. 
As  he  was  proceeding  along,  he  thought  he  heard  a  noise.  He 
stopped  and  listened.  He  did  hear  the  sound  of  a  human  voice  al 
some  distance,  but  quite  indistinctly.  As  it  was  in  the  direct  course 
he  was  pursuing,  he  went  on,  but  with  some  caution.  Occasionally 
he  paused  and  listened,  and  with  increasing  conviction  that  he  heard 
some  one.  At  length  he  came  within  sight  of  a  man,  whose  back 
was  turned  toward  him,  on  his  knees,  in  the  attitude  of  prayer.  It 
was  a  secluded  spot— a  kind  of  natural  bower ;  but  it  was  the  house 
of  prayer.  Potts  now  stopped,  partly  leaned  forward,  and  watched 
till  whoever  it  might  be  was  through  his  devotions.  This  was  not 
long.  And  whom  should  he  now  see  but  Washington  himself,  the 
commander  of  the  American  armies,  returning  from  bending  pros 
trate  before  the  God  of  armies  above. 

Potts  himself  was  a  pious  man.  He  knew  the  power  of  prayer ; 
and  no  sooner  had  he  reached  home,  than  in  the  fullness  of  his  faith 
he  broke  forth  to  his  wife  Sarah,  in  the  language  o."  a  watchman  : 

"  Wife— Sarah,  my  dear,  all's  well — all's  well  I  Yes,  George 
Washington  is  sure  to  beat  the  British — sure  /" 

"  What — what's  the  matter  with  thee,  Isaac  ?"  replied  the  startled 
Sarah.  "  Thee  seems  to  be  much  moved  about  something." 

"  Well,  and  what  if  I  am  moved  ?  Who  would  not  be  moved  at 
such  a  sight  as  I  have  seen  to-day  ?" 

"  And  what  has  thee  seen,  Isaac  ?" 

14  Seen !  I've  seen  a  man  at  prayer,  in  the  woods— George 
2  4  11,3 


50  TALES    AND   TRADITIONS. 

Washington  himself!  And  now  I  say— just  what  I  have  said—'  All's 
well ;  George  Washington  is  sure  to  beat  the  British — sure  !'  " 

Whether  Sarah's  faith  was  as  strong  as  Isaac's,  we  can  not  say ; 
but  Potts'  logic  was  sound — that  in  a  good  cause,  a  man  of  prayer  is 
sure  to  succeed — SURE  ! 

That  Washington  was  a  constant  attendant  upon  divine  worship, 
and  a  man  of  prayer,  admits  of  no  doubt.  This  was  highly  to  his 
credit ;  for  it  too  often  happens  that  men  in  important  stations  think 
that  their  pressure  of  business  will  justly  excuse  them  for  neglecting 
all  religious  duties. 

It  is  related  of  Washington,  that  in  the  French  and  Indian  war, 
when  he  was  a  Colonel,  he  used  himself,  in  the  absence  of  the  chap 
lain,  on  the  Sabbath,  to  read  the  Scriptures  to  the  soldiers  of  his 
regiment,  and  to  pray  with  them ;  and  that  more  than  once  he  was 
found  on  his  knees  in  his  marquee  at  secret  prayer. 

While  at  home  at  Mount  Vernon,  he  was  always  punctual  to  go 
to  church.  Sometimes  he  had  distinguished  men  to  visit  him,  and 
who  he  knew  had  no  great  regard  for  religion.  This  made  no  dif 
ference  with  his  conduct.  On  such  occasions  he  regularly  attended 
church,  and  invited  them  to  accompany  him. 

During  his  residence  in  Philadelphia,  as  President  of  the  United 
States,  he  was  a  constant  attendant  at  the  house  of  God,  on  the 
Sabbath ;  thus  setting  a  becoming  example  to  others  in  authority. 
And  it  has  often  been  remarked,  that  in  all  his  public  messages  to 
Congress,  he  was  particular  to  allude  in  some  appropriate  manner  to 
God's  overruling  providence,  and  his  sense  of  his  own  and  the 
nation's  dependence  upon  divine  favor,  for  individual  and  national 
prosperity. 

The  greatness  of  Washington  was  conceded  even  more  fully 
by  the  great  than  by  the  "common  herd"  of  mankind.  Bonaparte 
paid  a  tribute  to  the  American's  fame  scarcely  to  be  exceeded  for 
its  terms  of  admiration. 

"  Ah,  gentlemen,"  the  French  General  exclaimed  to  some  young 
Americans  happening  at  Toulon,  and  anxious  to  see  the  mighty 
Corsican,  had  obtained  the  honor  of  an  introduction  to  him,  "  how 
fares  your  countryman,  the  great  Washington?" 

"  He  was  very  .well,"  replied  the  youths,  brightening  at  the  thought 
114 


ANECDOTES   OF    WASHINGTON.  51 

that  they  were  the  countrymen  of  "Washington,  "he  was  very  well, 
General,  when  we  left  America." 

"Ah,  gentlemen,"  rejoined  he,  "Washington  can  never  be  other 
wise  than  well.  The  measure  of  Jiis  fame  is  full.  Posterity  will 
talk  of  him  with  reverence  as  the  founder  of  a  great  empire,  when 
my  name  shall  be  lost  in  the  vortex  of  revolutions." 

This  recalls  the  celebrated  "toast  scene"  wherein  Dr.  Franklin 
"paid  his  respects"  to  the  English  and  French.  It  is  thus  recited: 

Long  after  Washington's  victories  over  the  French  and  English 
had  made  his  name  familiar  to  all  Europe,  Dr.  Franklin  chanced  to 
dine  with  the  English  and  French  embassadors,  when  the  following 
toasts  were  drunk.  By  the  British  embassador :  "  England— the 
sun,  whose  bright  beams  enlighten  and  fructify  the  remotest  corners 
of  the  earth."  The  French  embassador,  glowing  with  national 
pride,  but  too  polite  to  dispute  the  previous  toast,  drank :  "  France — 
the  moon,  whose  mild,  steady  and  cheering  rays  are  the  delight  of 
all  nations,  consoling  them  in  darkness,  and  making  their  dreariness 
beautiful." 

Dr.  Franklin  then  rose,  and  with  his  usual  dignified  simplicity, 
said:  "George  Washington — the  Joshua,  who  commanded  the  sun  and 
moon  to  stand  still,  and  they  obeyed  him." 

We  could  fill  many  pages  with  anecdotes  of  Washington,  illustra 
tive  of  his  goodness,  his  real,  heart  piety,  his  reliance  on  an  over 
ruling  Providence ;  but  will  not,  at  this  time,  devote  more  space  to 
the  theme,  promising  ourselves  the  pleasures  of  again  recurring  to 
the  truly  august  subject. 


115 


52  TALKS    AND    TRADITIONS. 


THE  JOMSOI  BOYS  KILLING  THEIR  CAPTORS. 

THE  father  of  the  little  heroes  whose  daring  exploit  is  here  illustrated, 
removed  from  Pennsylvania  in  1786,  or  thereabouts,  and  settled  on 
what  was  called  Beech-bottom  Flats,  in  the  State  of  Ohio,  some  two 
miles  from  the  Ohio  River,  and  three  or  four  miles  above  '.he  mouth 
of  Short  Creek.  In  common  with  all  the  early  settlers  of  that  State, 
Johnson  was  subject  to  the  depredations  of  the  Indians,  who  felt 
that  the  white  men  were  encroaching  upon  their  hunting-grounds, 
and  did  not  hesitate  to  inflict  upon  them  the  fullest  measure  of  ven 
geance.  Protected  by  the  station,  or  fort,  near  which  thoy  resided, 
the  family  enjoyed,  however,  a  tolerable  share  of  security. 

One  Sunday  morning,  in  the  fall  of  1793,  two  of  his  sons— John, 
aged  thirteen,  and  Henry,  eleven — started  for  the  woods  to  look  for 
a  hat  which  the  younger  had  lost  the  previous  evening,  while  out 
after  the  cows.  Having  found  the  hat,  they  started  for  home,  but 
coming  to  the  foot  of  a  hickory  tree,  whose  tempting  fruit  lay  in 
bounteous  profusion  on  the  ground  before  them,  they,  boylike,  and 
dreaming  neither  of  Indians  nor  of  any  other  danger,  sat  clown  on  a 
fallen  log  and  amused  themselves  cracking  and  eating  nuts.  While 
thus  engaged,  they  observed  two  men  approaching  from  the  direction 
of  the  station,  who,  from  their  dress  and  appearance,  they  took  to  be 
^neighbors,  seeking  for  strayed  horses,  one  of  them  having  a  bridle  in 
his  hand.  Satisfied  of  this  fact,  they  continued  their  employment, 
until  the  men  had  approached  qnite  near  to  them,  when,  upon  look 
ing  up,  they  discovered,  to  their  horror,  that  they  were  Indians, 
dressed  in  the  garb  of  white  men.  Their  first  impulse  was  to  fly ; 
but  upon  rising  to  their  feet,  one  of  the  intruders  presented  his  rifle, 
and  told  them  to  stop  or  he  would  shoot.  Coming  up  to  them,  the 
other  presented  his  hand,  and  said:  "How  do,  brodder?"  The 
oldest  boy,  John,  immediately — instinctively,  as  it  were— called  into 
requisition  a  tact  perfectly  astonishing  in  such  a  child.  Accepting 
the  savage's  hand,  he  shook  it  with  a  smile,  asking  with  apparently 
116 


THE    JOHNSON    BOYS    KILLING    THEIR    CAPTORS.  53 

pleased  curiosity  if  they  were  Indians.  Their  captors  replied  that 
they  were,  telling  the  boys  that  they  must  go  with  them.  Conceal 
ing  their  feelings  of  fear  and  distress,  the  little  fellows  submitted, 
and  took  up  their  line  of  march  for  the  wilderness,  not  without  the 
most  poignant  emotions  at  thus  being  rudely  torn  from  their  home 
and  parents.  They  had  heard  enough,  young  as.  they  were,  of 
Indian  captivity,  to  guess  what  was  in  store  for  them — that,  even  at 
the  very  best,  there  would  be  years  of  wild,  uncivilized  life  before 
them,  should  they  be  spared  to  live  at  all.  But  hiding  the  sinking 
of  his  heart,  the  oldest  took  the  small  buckskin  bag  which  was  given, 
him  to  carry,  with  outward  cheerfulness,  and  entered  with  spirit  into 
the  search  of  the  Indians  after  the  horses  of  the  white  men.  The 
bag,  from  its  weight,  he  supposed  to  contain  money,  the  product  of 
their  depredations  upon  the  white  community. 

The  Indians  and  their  captives  spent  the  afternoon  in  pursuit  of 
horses,  taking  a  circuitous  route  through  the  bottom  and  over  the 
Short  Creek  hill ;  but  evening  approaching  without  their  meeting 
with  success,  they  drew  off  some  distance  into  the  woods,  in  search 
of  some  place  to  camp. 

Coming  to  a  spring  in  a  hollow,  which  answered  their  purpose, 
they  halted ;  and  while  one  of  them  scouted  around  the  camp,  the 
other  proceeded  to  build  a  fire,  by  flashing  his  gun  into  some  dry 
"tinder"  wood.  While  the  latter  was  gone  to  procure  the  wood 
from  a  decayed  stump,  John  took  up  the  gun  he  had  left  behind, 
and  cocked  it,  with  the  intention  of  shooting  him  as  he  came  back; 
but  Henry  stopped  him,  for  fear  the  other  might  be  near,  and  able 
to  overpower  them,  at  the  same  time  promising  to  aid  his  brother  if 
lie  would  wait  until  the  Indians  were  asleep. 

After  they  had  cooked  their  supper,  and  eaten  it  by  the  fire,  the 
savages  began  to  converse  apart  in  their  own  tongue.  The  result 
of  their  council  soon  became  painfully  apparent  to  the  boys.  Draw 
ing  their  knives,  they  began  to  whet  them,  at  the  same  time  con 
tinuing  their  discussion,  with  occasional  sidelong  glances  at  the  boys. 
Seeing  this,  with  that  remarkable  discretion  which  had  hitherto 
marked  his  conduct,  John  entered  into  conversation  with  them,  in. 
the  course  of  which  he  remarked  that  he  led  a  hard  life  with  his 
parents,  who  were  cross  to  him,  and  made  him  work  hard,  giving 

117 


54  TALES    AND    TRADITIONS. 

him  no  chance  for  play.  For  his  part,  he  liked  to  hunt  and  fish, 
and  when  he  got  to  their  towns,  he  meant  to  be  a  warrior  and  live 
with  them.  This  pleased  the  Indians,  and  led  to  farther  converse, 
during  which  one  of  them  asked  the  boys  which  way  home  was. 
John,  who  assumed  to  be  spokesman,  answered,  always  pointing  the 
wrong  way,  which  led  them  to  believe  that  their  captives  had  lost 
their  reckoning.  The  business  of  sharpening  the  knives  was  sus 
pended,  and  John's  bright  eyes,  smiling  but  anxious,  were  not  sorry 
to  see  them  restored  to  the  belts  of  the  wearers. 

The  Indians,  although  pleased  and  conciliated,  were  careful  not  to 
trust  their  little  prisoners  too  far,  but  pinioned  their  arms,  and  when 
they  laid  down  to  sleep  for  the  night,  placed  the  boys  between  them, 
secured  by  a  large  strap,  which  passed  under  their  own  bodies.  Late 
in  the  night,  one  of  the  savages,  becoming  cold,  stirred  in  his  sleep, 
caught  hold  of  John  in  his  arms,  and  turned  him  over  to  the  outside, 
soon  relapsing  into  sound  slumber  with  the  renewed  warmth  thus 
obtained.  In  this  situation  the  boy,  awake  and  alert,  found  means 
to  get  his  hands  loose;  he  then  nudged  his  brother,  made  him  get 
up,  and  untied  his  arms.  This  done,  Henry  thought  of  nothing  but 
of  running  off  as  fast  as  possible;  but  when  about  to  start,  his 
brother  caught  hold  of  him,  whispering :  "  We  must  kill  these  Indians 
before  we  go."  After  some  hesitation,  Henry  agreed  to  make  the 
attempt.  John  took  one  of  the  rifles  of  their  captors,  and  placed  it 
on  a  log  with  the  muzzle  close  to  the  head  of  one  of  them.  He  then 
cocked  the  gun,  and  placed  his  little  brother  at  the  breech  with  his 
finger  on  the  trigger,  with  instructions  to  pull  it  as  soon  as  he  should 
strike  the  other  Indian.  He  then  took  one  of  the  tomahawks,  and 
placed  himself  astride  the  second  foe.  •  All  this  time  the  savages 
slumbered  on  in  their  fancied  security.  That  moment  he  gave  the 
word  to  fire,  while  he  brought  the  tomahawk  down  with  all  the 
force  of  his  young  arm  upon  his  sleeping  enemy.  The  blow,  how 
ever,  fell  upon  the  back  of  the  neck  and  to  one  side,  so  as  not  to  be 
fatal;  the  wounded  savage  attempted  to  spring  up,  but  tie  little 
fellow,  urged  to  desperation,  plied  his  blows  with  such  force  and 
rapidity  upon  the  Indian's  skull,  that,  to  use  his  own  words  in. 
describing  it,  "  the  Indian  laid  still  and  began  to  quiver." 

At  the  moment  of  the  first  stroke  given  by  the  elder  brother,  the 
118 


THE    JOHNSON    BOYS    KILLING    TIIEIll    CAPTORS.  55 

younger  one  pulled  the  trigger,  as  directed ;  but  bis  skot  was  not 
more  fatal  tban  the  other's  blow,  for  he  only  succeeded  in  blowing 
off  a  large  part  of  his  antagonist's  lower  jaw.  This  Indian,  an 
instant  after  receiving  the  wound,  began  to  flounce  about  and  yell  in 
the  most  frightful  manner.  The  boys  were  glad  to  abandon  him  to 
his  fate.  They  made  the  best  of  their  way  to  the  fort,  reaching  it 
a  little  before  day-break.  On  getting  near  the  station,  they  found 
the  people  all  up,  and  a  great  anxiety  on  their  account.  On  hearing 
u  woman  exclaim :  "  Poor  little  fellows,  they  are  killed  or  taken 
prisoners !"  the  eldest  one  answered :  "  No,  mother,  we  are  here 
yet  I" 

Having  brought  away  nothing  from  the  Indian  camp,  their  relation 
was  not  credited,  and  a  party  was  made  up  to  go  in  search  of  its 
truth.  On  arriving  at  the  camp,  they  found  the  Indian  whom  John 
had  tomahawked,  dead ;  the  other  had  crawled  away,  leaving  a 
heavy,  bloody  trail,  by  which  he  was  traced  to  the  top  of  a  fallen 
tree,  where  he  had  ensconced  himself,  determined  to  sell  his  life 
clearly.  At  the  approach  of  the  party  he  attempted  to  fire  upon 
them  ;  but  his  gun  flashed  in  the  pan  ;  and  one  *>f  the  men  remark 
ing  that  he  "didn't  care  about  being  killed  by  a  dead  Injin,"  they 
left  him  to  die  of  his  wounds.  His  skeleton  and  gun  were  found, 
some  time  afterward,  near  the  spot.  It  was  conjectured  that  the 
bag  of  specie  which  the  Indians  had,  was  appropriated  by  one  of  the 
settlers,  who  had  slipped  off  in  advance  upon  hearing  the  story  of 
the  boys.  For  some  time  after  this  person  seemed  better  supplied 
with  money  than  he  had  ever  been  before. 

The  story  of  the  heroism  of  the  little  warriors  got  abroad,  and 
even  the  Indians  themselves  gave  them  credit  for  it.  After  the 
treaty  with  General  Wayne,  an  old  Indian,  who  was  a  friend  of  the 
two  who  were  killed  (and  who,  it  seems,  had  been  distinguished 
warriors),  inquired  of  a  man  from  Short  Creek  what  they  had  done 
with  the  two  young  braves  who  had  killed  the  Indians.  Being 
answered  that  they  lived  at  the  same  place  with  their  parents,  he 
replied  :  "  Then  you  have  not  done  right ;  you  should  have  made 
kings  of  those  boys." 

There  are  a  good  many  stories  told  of  those  early  days,  far  pleas- 
anter  for  the  boys  of  this  generation  to  read  in  safety,  by  the 

119 


50  TALES    AND    TKADITIONS. 

comfortable  winter  fire,  than  it  was  for  the  hardy  and  sagacious  little 
heroes  to  enact  them. 

In  August,  1786,  a  lad  by  the  name  of  Downing,  who  lived  at  a 
fort  near  Slate  Creek,  in  what  is  now  Bath  county,  was  requested  by 
an  older  companion  to  assist  him  in  hunting  for  a  horse  which  had 
strayed  away  the  preceding  evening.  Downing  readily  complied, 
and  the  two  friends  searched  in  every  direction,  until  at  length  they 
found  themselves  in  a  wild  valley,  some  six  or  seven  miles  from  the 
fort.  Here  Downing  became  alarmed,  and  repeatedly  told  his  com 
panion,  Yates,  that  he  heard  sticks  cracking  behind  them,  and  was 
certain  that  Indians  were  dogging  them.  Yates,  an  old  backwoods 
man,  laughed  at  the  fears  of  the  boy,  and  contemptuously  asked  him 
at  what  price  he  rated  his  scalp,  offering  to  insure  it  for  sixpence. 
Downing,  however,  was  not  so  easily  satisfied.  He  observed  that  in 
whatever  direction  they  turned,  the  same  ominous  sounds  continued 
to  haunt  them,  and  as  Yates  continued  to  treat  the  matter  recklessly, 
he  resolved  to  take  measures  for  his  own  safety.  Gradually  slack 
ening  his  pace,  he  permitted  Yates  to  advance  twenty  or  thirty  steps 
ahead,  and  immediately  afterward,  as  they  descended  the  slope  of  a 
gentle  hill,  Downing  slipped  aside  and  hid  himself  in  a  thick  cluster 
of  whortleberry  bushes.  Yates  proceeded  on,  singing  carelessly  some 
rude  song,  and  was  soon  out  of  sight.  Scarcely  had  he  disappeared, 
when  Downing  beheld  two  savages  put  aside  the  stalks  of  a  cane- 
brake,  and  cautiously  look  out  in  the  direction  Yates  had  taken. 
Fearful  that  they  had  seen  him  step  aside,  he  determined  to  lire 
upon  them,  and  trust  to  his  heels  for  safety  ;  but  so  unsteady  was 
his  hand,  that  in  raising  his  gun  to  his  shoulder,  it  went  off  before 
he  had  taken  aim.  He  immediately  ran,  and  after  proceeding  about 
fifty  yards,  met  Yates,  who  had  hastily  retraced  his  steps.  The 
enemy  were  then  in  full  view,  and  the  woodsman,  who  might  have 
outstripped  the  lad,  graduated  his  steps  to  those  of  his  companion. 
The  Indians,  by  taking  a  shorter  path,  gained  rapidly  upon  the  fugi 
tives,  across  whose  way  lay  a  deep  gully.  Yates  easily  cleared  it, 
but  Downing  dropped  short,  and  fell  at  full  length  upon  the  bottom. 
The  savages,  eager  to  capture  Yates,  continued  the  pursuit,  without 
appearing  to  notice  Downing,  who,  quickly  recovering  his  strength, 
began  to  walk  slowly  up  the  ditch,  fe&ring  to  leave  it,  lest  the 
120 


THE    ATTACK    ON    CAPTAIN   HUBBELL'S   FLAT-BOAT.  59 

enemy  should  see  him.  He  had  scarcely  emerged  into  the  open 
ground  before  he  saw  one  of  the  Indians  returning,  apparently  in 
quest  of  him.  His  gun  being  unloaded,  Downing  threw  it  away, 
and  again  took  to  flight ;  but  his  pursuer  gained  on  him  so  rapidly, 
that  he  lost  all  hope  of  escape.  Coming  at  length  to  a  large  poplar, 
which  had  been  blown  up  by  the  roots,  he  ran  along  the  body  of 
the  tree  on  one  side,  while  the  Indian  ran  along  the  other,  expecting 
to  intercept  his  game  at  the  root.  But  here  fortune  favored  the 
latter  in  the  most  singular  manner.  A  she-bear  which  was  suckling 
her  cubs  in  a  bed  at  the  root  of  the  tree,  suddenly  sprung  upon  the 
Indian,  and  while  the  latter  was  yelling  and  stabbing  his  hirsute 
antagonist  with  his  knife,  Downing  succeeded  in  reaching  the  fort, 
where  he  found  Yates  reposing  after  a  hot  chase,  in  which  he,  also, 
had  distanced  his  pursuers. 

Whether  the  bear  or  the  Indian  came  off  victor  in  the  im 
promptu  engagement  so  suddenly  entered  into,  the  historian  sayeth 
not. 

In  the  following  narrative,  the  incidents  of  which  are  included  in 
the  History  of  the  State  of  Kentucky,  will  be  noticed  the  fortitude 
of  another  lif.tle  hero,  who,  in  the  midst  of  appalling  circumstances, 
received  two  severe  wounds,  one  of  which  must  have  been  extremely 
painful,  yet  who  made  no  sign — would  not  even  allow  it  to  be  known 
that  he  was  injured,  until  the  conflict  was  over. 

In  March,  1788,  Captain  William  Hubbell,  floating  down  the  Ohio 
River  in  his  flat-boat,  on  his  return  from  the  east,  after  leaving  Pitts- 
burg,  saw  traces  of  Indians  along  the  banks  of  the  stream,  which 
excited  his  suspicions  and  increased  his  watchfulness.  On  the  bpat, 
besides  Captain  Hubbell,  were 'Daniel  Light,  and  William  Plascut 
and  his  family.  Before  reaching  the  mouth  of  the  Great  Kanawha, 
their  number  was  increased  to  twenty,  among  whom  were  Ray, 
Tucker  and  Kilpatrick,  also  two  daughters  of  the  latter,  a  man  by  the 
name  of  Stoner,  an  Irishman,  and  a  German.  Information  at  Galli- 
polis  confirmed  their  previous  expectation  of  a  conflict  with  a  large 
body  of  Indians  ;  Captain  Hubbell  therefore  made  every  preparation 
to  resist  the  anticipated  attack.  The  men,  divided  into  three 
watches  for  the  night,  were  alternately  on  the  look-out  for  two  hours 
at  a  time.  The  arms  on  board  unfortunately  consisted  mainly  of  old 

123 


60  TALES    AND    TRADITIONS. 

muskets  much  out  <6f  order.     These  were  put  in  the  best  possible 
condition  for  service. 

On  the  23d,  Hubbell's  party  overtook  a  fleet  of  six  boats  descend 
ing  the  river  in  company,  and,  for  mutual  protection,  at  first  con 
cluded  to  join  them.  Finding  them,  however,  a  careless,  noisy  set 
of  people,  more  intent  on  dancing  than  watching  for  Indians,  Hub- 
bell  determined  to  push  forward  alone.  One  of  the  six  boats,  desirous 
of  keeping  up  with  Hubbell,  pushed  forward  for  a  short  time ;  but 
its  crew  at  length  dropped  asleep,  and  it  was  soon  left  in  the  rear. 
Early  in  the  night,  a  canoe  was  seen  flying  down  the  river,  in  which 
probably  were  Indians  on  the  watch.  Fires  and  other  signs  also 
were  observed,  which  indicated  the  presence  of  a  formidable  body 
of  the  savages. 

At  daybreak,  before  the  men  were  at  their  posts,  a  voice  some 
distance  below  repeatedly  solicited  them,  in  a  plaintive  tone,  to  come 
on  shore,  representing  that  some  white  persons  wished  to  take  a 
passage  in  their  boat.  This  the  Captain  naturally  concluded  to  be 
an  Indian  artifice.  He  accordingly  placed  every  man  upon  his 
guard.  The  voice  of  entreaty  soon  was  changed  into  insult,  and  the 
sound  of  distant  paddles  announced  the  approach  of  the  savage  foe. 
Three  Indian  canoes  were  seen  through  the  mist  rapidly  advancing. 
With  the  utmost  coolness,  the  Captain  and  his  conifvinions  prepared 
to  receive  them.  Every  man  was  ordered  not  to  fire  until  the 
savages  came  nearly  up  to  the  boat;  the  men,  also,  were  directed  to 
fire  in  succession,  that  there  might  be  no  intervals. 

The  canoes  were  found  to  contain  from  twenty-five  to  thirty 
Indians  each.  When  within  musket-shot,  they  poured  in  a  general 
fire  from  one  of  the  canoes,  by  which  Tucker  and  Light  were 
wounded.  The  three  canoes  now  placed  themselves  on  the  bow, 
stern  and  side  of  the  boat,  opening  a  raking  fire  upon  the  whites  ; 
but  the  steady  firing  from  the  boat  had  a  powerful  effect  in  checking 
the  confidence  and  the  fury  of  the  savages.  Hubbell,  after  firing  his 
own  gun,  took  up  that  of  one  of  the  wounded  men,  and  was  in  the 
act  of  discharging  it  when  a  ball  tore  away  the  lock.  He  deliberately 
seized  a  brand  of  fire,  and,  applying  it  to  the  pan,  discharged  it  with 
effect.  When  in  the  act  of  raising  his  gun  a  third  time,  a  ball  passed 
through  his  right  arm,  which  for  a  moment  tlis;tbiod  him.  Seeing 
124 


THE    ATTACK    ON    CAPTAIN    HUBBELL's    FLAT  BOAT.  til 

this,  the  savages  rushed  for  the  boat,  to  board  it.  Severely  wounded 
as  he  was,  Hubbell  rushed  to  the  bow,  arid  assisted  in  forcing  the 
enemy  off,  by  the  discharge  of  a  pair  of  horse  pistols,  and  by  billets 
of  wood.  Meeting  with  so  desperate  a  resistance,  the  Indians  at 
length  discontinued  the  contest,  for  the  moment. 

The  boat  which  Hubbell  had  recently  left  behind  now  appearing 
in  sight,  the  canoes  rushed  toward  it.  They  boarded  it  without 
opposition,  killed  Captain  Greathouse  and  a  lad,  placed  the  women 
in  the  center  of  their  canoes,  and  then  manning  them  with  a  fresh 
reinforcement  from  the  shore,  again  pursued  Hubbell  and  his  party. 
The  melancholy  alternative  now  presented  itself  to  these  brave  but 
desponding  men,  either  of  falling  a  prey  to  the  savages,  or  to  run  the 
risk  of  shooting  the  white  women  in  the  canoes,  purposely  placed 
there  by  the  Indians,  in  the  hope  of  obtaining  protection  by  their 
presence.  Hubbell,  well  knowing  how  little  mercy  was  to  be 
expected  if  the  savages  were  victorious,  did  not  hesitate.  He  resolved 
to  war  to  the  last. 

There  were  now  but  four  men  left  on  board  of  the  boat  capable 
of  defending  it.  The  Captain  himself  was  severely  wounded  in  two 
places.  Yet.  the  second  attack  was  resisted  with  incredible  firmness. 
Whenever  the  Indians  would  rise  to  fire,  the  whites  would,  com 
monly,  give  them  the  first  shot,  which  in  almost  every  instance 
would  prove  fatal.  Notwithstanding  the  disparity  of  numbers  and 
the  exhausted  condition  of  Hubbell's  party,  the  Indians,  despairing 
of  success,  retired  to  the  shore.  Just  as  the  last  canoe  was  depart 
ing,  Hubbell  called  to  the  Indian  chief  in  the  stern,  and  on  his  turn 
ing  round,  discharged  his  piece  at  him.  When  the  smoke  was 
dissipated,  the  savage  was  seen  lying  on  his  back,  severely,  perhaps 
mortally,  wounded. 

Unfortunately,  the  boat  had  drifted  near  to  shore,  where  the 
Indians  were  collected,  and  a  large  concourse,  probably  between  four 
and  five  hundred,  were  seen  rushing  down  on  the  bank.  Ray  and 
Plascut,  the  only  men  remaining  unhurt,  took  to  the  oars.  As  the 
boat  was  not  more  than  twenty  yards  from  shore,  it  was  deemed 
prudent  for  them  to  lie  down,  and  attempt  to  paddle  out  into  the 
river  with  the  utmost  practicable  rapidity.  While  thus  covered, 
nine  balls  were  shot  into  one  oar,  and  ten  into  the  other,  without 

125 


«2  TALES    AND    TRADITIONS. 

wounding  the  rowers,  who  were  protected  by  the  side  of  the  boat 
and  the  blankets  in  its  stern.  During  this  exposure  to  the  fire, 
which  continued  about  twenty  minutes,  Kilpatrick  observed  a  par 
ticular  Indian,  whom  he  thought  a  favorable  mark  for  his  rifle,  and, 
despite  the  solemn  warning  of  Captain  Hubbell,  rose  to  shoot  the 
savage.  He  immediately  received  a  ball  in  his  mouth,  which  passed 
out  at  the  back  part  of  his  head,  and  was,  almost  at  the  same 
moment,  shot  through  the  heart.  He  fell  among  the  horses  that 
about  the  same  time  were  killed,  presenting  to  his  afflicted  daughters 
and  fellow  travelers,  who  were  witnesses  of  the  awful  occurrence,  a 
spectacle  of  horror  which  it  were  impossible  to  describe. 

The  boat,  providentially,  was  then  suddenly  carried  out  into  the 
stream,  beyond  reach  of  the  enemy's  balls.  The  little  band,  reduced 
in  numbers,  wounded,  afflicted,  and  almost  exhausted  by  fatigue,  still 
were  unsubdued  in  spirit,  and  being  assembled  in  all  their  strength, 
men,  women  and  children,  with  an  appearance  of  triumph  gave  three 
hearty  cheers,  calling  to  the  Indians  to  come  on  again  if  they  were 
fond  of  the  sport. 

Thus  ended  this  stubborn  conflict,  in  which  only  two  out  of  nine 
men.  escaped  unhurt.  Tucker  and  Kilpatrick  were  killed  on  the 
spot,  Stoner  was  mortally  wounded,  and  died  on  his  arrival  at  Lime 
stone,  and  all  the  rest,  excepting  Ray  and  Plascut,  were  severely 
wounded.  The  women  and  children  all  were  uninjured,  excepting 
a  little  son  of  Mr.  Plascut,  who,  after  the  battle  was  over,  came  to 
the  Captain,  and  with  great  coolness  requested  him  to  take  a  ball 
out  of  his  head.  On  examination,  it  appeared  that  a  bullet,  which 
had  passed  through  the  side  of  the  boat,  had  penetrated  the  forehead 
of  this  little  hero,  and  still  remained  under  the  skin.  The  Captain 
took  it  out,  when  the  youth,  observing,  "  That  is  not  all,"  raised  his 
arm,  and  exhibited  a  piece  of  bone  at  the  point  of  his  elbow,  which 
had  been,  shot  off,  and  hung  only  by  the  skin.  His  mother 
exclaimed : 

"  Why  did  you  not  tell  me  of  this  ?" 

"  Because,"  he  coolly  replied,  "  the  Captain  directed  us  to  be  silent 
during  the  action,  and  I  thought  you  would  be  likely  to  make  a  noise 
if  I  told  you." 

Here  was  true  pluck. 
126 


THE    ATTACK    ON    CAPTAIN    HUBBELL'S    FLAT-BOAT.  68 

The  boat  made  its  way  down  the  river  as  rapidly  as  possible,  the 
object  being  to  reach  Limestone  that  night.  The  Captain,  tormented 
by  excruciating  pain,  and  faint  through  loss  of  blood,  was  under  the 
necessity  of  steering  the  boat  with  his  left  arm,  till  about  ten  o'clock 
that  night,  when  he  was  relieved  by  William  Brooks,  who  resided 
on  the  bank  of  the  river,  and  who  was  induced  by  the  calls  of  the 
suffering  party  to  come  out  to  their  assistance.  By  his  aid,  and  that 
of  some  other  persons,  who  were  in  the  same  manner  brought  to 
their  relief,  the  party  was  enabled  to  reach  Limestone  about  twelve 
o'clock  that  night.  On  the  arrival  of  Brooks,  Captain  Hubbell, 
relieved  from  labor  and  responsibility,  sunk  under  the  weight  of  pain 
and  fatigue,  and  became  for  a  while  totally  insensible.  When  the 
boat  reached  Limestone,  he  found  himself  unable  to  walk,  and  was 
carried  up  to  the  tavern.  Here  he  continued  several  days,  until  he 
acquired  sufficient  strength  to  proceed  he  me  ward. 

On  the  arrival  of  Hubbell's  party  at  Limestone,  they  found  a  con 
siderable  force  of  armed  men  ready  to  march  against  the  Indians. 
They  now  learned  that,  on  the  Sunday  preceding,  these  very  same 
savages  had  cut  off  a  detachment  of  men  ascending  the  Ohio  from 
Fort  Washington,  at  the  mouth  of  Licking  River,  and  had  killed 
with  their  tomahawks,  without  firing  a  gun,  twenty-one  out  of 
twenty-two  men,  of  which  the  detachment  consisted  ! 

Crowds  of  people,  as  might  be  expected,  came  to  examine  the 
boat  which  had  been  the  scene  of  so  much  heroism  and  such  horrid 
carnage,  and  to  visit  the  resolute  little  band  by  whom  it  had  been  so 
gallantly  defended.  On  examination,  it  was  found  that  the  sides  of 
the  boat  were  literally  filled  with  bullets  and  bullet-holes.  There  was 
scarcely  a  space  of  two  feet  square  in  the  part  above  water,  which 
had  not  either  a  ball  remaining  in  it,  or  a  hole  through  which  a  ball 
had  passed.  Some  persons  who  had  the  curiosity  to  count  the 
number  of  holes  in  the  blankets  which  were  hung  up  as  curtains  in 
the  stern  of  the  boat,  affirmed  that  in  the  space  of  five  feet  square 
there  were  one  hundred  and  twenty-two.  Four  horses  out  of  five 
were  killed.  The  escape  of  the  fifth,  amidst  such  a  shower  of  balls, 
appears  almost  miraculous. 

The  day  after  the  arrival  of  Captain  Hubbell  and  his  companions, 
the  five  boats  passed  on  the  night  preceding  the  battle  reached 

127 


64  TALES   AND    TRADITIONS. 

Limestone.  The  Indians,  it  would  appear,  had  met  with  too  formid 
able  a  resistance  from  a  single  boat  to  attack  a  fleet,  and  suffered 
them  to  pass  unmolested.  From  that  time,  it  is  believed  that  no 
boat  was  assailed  by  Indians  on  the  Ohio. 

The  force  which  marched  out  from  Limestone  to  disperse  this 
formidable  body  of  savages  discovered  several  Indians  dead  on  the 
shore,  near  the  scene  of  action.  They  also  found  the  bodies  of 
Captain  Greathouse  and  several  others — men,  women  and  childrcn-- 
who  had  been  on  board  of  his  boat.  Most  of  them  appeared  to  have 
been  whipped  to  death,  as  they  were  found  stripped,  tied  to  trees,  and 
marked  with  the  appearance  of  lashes;  and  large  rods,  which 
seemed  to  have  been  worn  with  use,  were  observed  lying  near  them. 

It  is  wonderful,  when  we  consider  the  perils  whicli  beset  the  early 
settlers,  that  Ohio,  Kentucky  and  Indiana  did  not  remain  untenanted 
by  white  men.  We  can  not  open  the  history  of  the  years,  from 
1787  to  1814,  that  we  do  not  find,  upon  almost  every  page,  a  story 
of  suffering,  of  miraculous  escape,  or  of  appalling  death  which  every 
where  seemed  to  be  in  store  for  the  daring  pioneer.  In  the  course 
of  this  series  of  tales  we  shall  have  occasion  to  repeat  many  of  those 
stirring  episodes,  which  will  be  perused  with  commingled  feelings 
of  pain  and  admiration.  Every  youth,  and  particularly  every  one 
dwelling  west  of  the  Alleghanies,  should  study  these  episodes,  and 
learn  from  them  through  what  trials  came  their  blessings. 


128 


T  ^  L  E  S, 


TRADITIONS  AND  ROMANCE 

OF 

. 

«*. 

BORDER  AND  REVOLUTIONARY  TIMES. 


A  QREAT   HUNTINGS  ADVENTURE. 
COLONEL  HORRY'S  EXPLOITS. 
ELERSON'S  EAMOUS  RACE. 
MOLLY  PITCHER  AT    MONMOUTH. 


3STJEW  YORK 

BEADLE  AND  COMPANY,  PUBLISHERS, 

118  WILLIAM    STEEET. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1863,  by 

BEADLE   AND    COMPANY, 

lu  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States  for  the 
Southern  District  of  New  York. 


A  KEMARKABLE 

HUNTING  EXCURSION. 


ON  a  September  morning  of  the  year  1817,  Solomon  Sweatland,  of 
Conneaut,  on  the  Ohio  shore  of  Lake  Erie,  had  risen  at  earliest  dawn 
to  enjoy  his  favorite  amusement  of  hunting  deer.  Royal  game  was 
this,  and  hunted  in  royal  parks,  which  the  dukes  and  princes  of 
haughty  old  England  might  envy,  and,  best  of  all,  they  were  not 
barred  from  the  poorest  settler.  There  was  no  punishment  for 
"poaching"  on  the  magnificent  prairies,  and  in  the  glorious  forests 
of  the  West.  The  men  who  there  slung  their  rifles  over  their 
shoulders,  and  set  out,  careless  whether  they  met  a  fawn  or  a  panther, 
would  have  sneered  at  an  English  hunting-ground  as  a  bit  of  a  hand 
kerchief  which  one  of  their  favorite  "per-raries"  could  tuck  away  in 
her  pocket  and  never  feel  it.  Men  who  can  "  drive  the  nail"  and 
"  snuff  a  candle,"  three  shots  out  of  six,  and  who  kill  such  dainty 
game  as  squirrels  by  blowing  the  breath  out  of  them  with  the  wind 
of  their  bullets  instead  of  lacerating  their  little  bodies  with  the  ball ; 
who  have  hand-to-hand,  or  hand-to-paw,  tussles  with  ferocious 
grizzlies,  and  make  nothing  of  two  or  three  deer  before  breakfast, 
may  afford  to  smile  at  their  fox-hunting,  partridge-shooting  English 
cousins.  Such  were  the  men  who  first  settled  our  now  populous 
Western  States;  and  we  may  well  believe  that  the  healthy  and 
thrilling  excitement  of  pursuits  like  these  compensated  for  the  want 
of  many  luxuries,  and  that  they  became  so  attached  to  their  free  and 
venturesome  modes  of  life,  as  to  feel  stifled  at  the  idea  of  the  con 
straints  of  society. 

"  Their  gaunt  hounds  yelled,  their  rifles  flashed— 
The  grim  bear  hushed  his  savage  growl; 

133 


ft  TALES    AND    TRADITIONS. 

In  blood  and  foam  the  panther  gnashed 

His  fangs,  with  dying  howl ; 
The  fleet  deer  ceased  its  flying  bound, 
Its  snarling  wolf-foe  bit  the  ground, 

And,  with  a  moaning  cry, 
The  beaver  sunk  beneath  the  wound, 

Its  pond-built  Venice  by." 

Fascinating,  even  in  contemplation,  is  a  life  like  this.  It  makes 
the  blood  tingle  in  the  veins,  the  sinews  stretch,  and  the  lungs 
expand,  to  read  of  the  scenes  which  cluster  around  it,  and  to  breathe, 
in  fancy,  the  pure  air,  and  sweep,  with  our  vision,  the  wide 
horizon. 

But  we  must  go  back  to  our  hunter,  who  stood,  in  the  gray  light, 
of  dawn,  without  coat  or  waistcoat,  outside  his  cabin,  listening  to  the 
baying  of  the  dogs,  as  they  drove  the  deer.  In  this  part  of  the 
country,  lying  along  the  lake,  it  was  the  custom  for  one  party,  aided 
by  dogs,  to  drive  the  deer  into  the  water,  when  another  would  pur 
sue  them  in  boats,  and  when  the  game  was  a  little  tired,  shoot  it 
without  difficulty.  Sweatland  had  a  neighbor  who  hunted  with  him 
in  this  manner,  and  he  it  was  who  had  already  started  a  noble  buck, 
which  dashed  into  the  lake,  while  Sweatland  stood  listening  for  the 
direction  of  the  clogs. 

In  the  enthusiasm  of  the  moment,  he  threw  his  hat  on  the  beach, 
jumped  into  his  canoe,  and  pulled  out  after  the  animal,  every 
nerve  thrilling  with  intense  interest  in  the  pursuit.  The  wind, 
which  had  been  blowing  steadily  from  the  south  during  the  night, 
had  now  increased  to  a  gale,  but  he  was  too  intent  upon  securing 
the  valuable  prize  which  was  breasting  the  \vaves  in  advance,  to 
heed  the  dictates  of  prudence.  The  race  promised  to  be  a  long  one, 
for  the  buck  was  a  powerful  animal,  and  was  not  easily  to  be  beaten 
by  a  log  canoe  and  a  single  paddle. 

A  considerable  distance  from  the  land  had  been  obtained,  and  the 
canoe  had  already  shipped  a  heavy  sea,  before  he  overtook  the  deer, 
which  turned  and  made  for  the  opposite  shore.  Upon  tacking  to 
pursue  him,  Sweatland  .was  at  once  apprised  of  his  danger  by  the 
fact  that,  with  his  utmost  exertions,  he  not  only  made  no  progress 
in  the  desired  direction,  but  was  actually  drifting  out  to  sea.  He 
had  been  observed,  as  he  Left  the  shore,  by  kis  neighbor,  and  also 
134 


A  REMARKABI.T:  HUNTING  EXCURSION.  7 

by  his  family,  and  as  lie  disappeared  from  sight,  great  apprehension 
was  felt  for  his  safety. 

The  alarm  was  soon  given  in  the  neighborhood,  and  it  was  decided 
by  those  competent  to  judge,  that  his  return  would  be  impossible, 
and  unless  aid  was  afforded  him,  that  he  was  doomed  to  perish. 

Actuated  by  those  generous  impulses  which  often  induce  men  to 
risk  their  own  lives  for  the  salvation  of  others,  three  neighbors  took 
a  light  boat  and  started  in  search  of  the  wanderer.  They  met  the 
deer  returning,  but  saw  nothing  of  their  friend.  The}-  made  stretches 
off  shore  in  the  probable  range  of  the  hunter,  until  they  reached  a 
distance  of  five  or  six  miles  from  land,  when,  meeting  with  a  heavy 
sea,  in  which  they  thought  it  impossible  for  a  canoe  to  live,  and 
seeing  no  signs  of  it  on  the  vast  expanse  of  waters,  they  reluctantly, 
and  not  without  danger  to  themselves,  returned  to  shore,  giving 
Sweatland  up  as  lost. 

Meantime,  the  object  of  their  search  was  laboring  at  his  paddle, 
in  the  vain  hope  that  the  wind  might  abate,  or  that  aid  might  reach 
him  from  the  shore. 

"  An  antlered  dweller  of  the  wild 

Had  met  his  eager  gaze, 
And  far  his  wandering  steps  beguiled 
Within  an  unknown  maze." 

Willingly  would  he  now  have  resigned  every  lordly  buck  of  the 
forest,  to  warm  himself  by  his  cabin  fire,  hear  the  laugh  of  his  little 
ones,  and  breathe  the  odor  of  the  welcome  breakfast — ay,  even  for 
his  coat  and  a  biscuit  he  would  have  given  much. 

One  or  two  schooners  were  in  sight  in  the  course  of  the  day,  but 
although  he  made  every  effort  to  attract  the  notice  of  their  crews, 
he  failed  to  do  so.  For  a  long  time  the  shore  continued  in  sight, 
and  as  he  traced  its  fast-receding  outline,  and  recognized  the  spot 
where  stood  his  home,  within  whose  precincts  were  the  cherished 
objects  of  his  affection,  now  doubly  dear  from  the  prospect  of  losing 
them  forever,  he  felt  that  the  last  tie  which  united  him  in  companion 
ship  with  his  fellow-men  was  about  to  be  dissolved — the  world,  with 
all  its  busy  interests,  was  floating  far  away. 

Sweatland  possessed  a  cool  head  and  a  stout  heart ;  these,  united 
to  considerable  physical  strength  and  power  of  endurance,  fitted  him 

135 


8  TALES    AND    TRADITIONS. 

for  the  emergency  in  which  he  found  himself.  He  was  a  good 
sailor,  and  liis  experience  taught  him  that  "  while  there  was-  life 
there  was  hope."  Experience  taught  him  also,  as  the  outline  of  the 
far-off  shore  receded  from  sight,  that  his  only  expedient  was  to 
endeavor  to  reach  the  Canada  shore,  a  distance  of  fifty  miles. 

It  was  now  blowing  a  gale,  so  that  it  required  the  most  incredible 
exertions  to  trim  his  uncouth  vessel  to  the  waves.  He  was  obliged 
to  stand  erect,  and  move  cautiously  from  one  end  to  the  other,  well 
aware  JJiat  one  lost  stroke  of  the  paddle,  or  a  tottering  movement, 
would  bring  his  voyage  to  a  sudden  termination.  Much  of  his 
attention  was  likewise  required  in  bailing  out  the  canoe,  which  he 
managed  to  do  with  one  of  his  shoes,  which  were  a  substantial  pair 
of  stogas.  Hitherto  he  had  been  blessed  by  the  light  of  clay,  but 
now,  to  add  to  his  distress,  night  approached,  and  he  could  only 
depend  upon  a  kind  Providence  to  guide  him  over  the  watery  waste. 
The  sky,  too,  began  to  be  overcast ;  an  occasional  star,  glistening 
through  the  scudding  clouds,  was  all  the  light  afforded  him  through 
that  long  and  fearful  night. 

Wet  to  the  skin  by  the  dashing  spray ;  part  of  the  time  in  water 
half  way  to  his  knees ;  so  cold  that  his  blood  chilled  in  his  veins, 
and  almost  famished,  he  felt  that  death  was  preferable  to  such  long- 
continued  suffering ;  and  nothing  but  the  thought  of  his  family  gave 
him  courage  to  keep  up  his  exertions. 

When  morning  dawned,  the  outline  of  the  Canada  shore  greeted 
his  sight ;  he  soon  made  the  land  in  the  vicinity  of  Long  Point. 
Here  he  met  additional  difficulties  in  an  adverse  wind  and  heavy 
breakers,  but  the  same  hand  which  had  guided  him  thus  far  re 
mained  with  him  still ;  he  succeeded  in  safely  landing.  What  his 
emotions  were  upon  again  treading  "  the  green  and  solid  earth,"  we 
may  faintly  imagine ;  but  his  trials  were  not  ended.  Faint  with 
hunger  and  exhausted  by  fatigue,  he  was  forty  miles  from  human 
habitation,  while  the  country  which  intervened  was  a  desert,  filled 
with  marshes  and  tangled  thickets,  from  which  nothing  could  be 
drawn  to  supply  his  wants.  These  difficulties,  together  with  his 
reduced  state,  made  his  progress  toward  the  settlements  very  slow. 

On  his  way  he  found  a  quantity  of  goods  which  had  been  thrown 
ashore  from  the  wreck  of  some  vessel,  which,  though  they  afforded 
ISO 


A    REMARKABLE    HUNTING    EXCURSION.  0 

no  immediate  relief,  were  afterward  of  service  to  him.  After  a  long 
and  toilsome  march  through  the  wilderness,  he  arrived  at  a  settle 
ment,  where  he  was  treated  with  great  kindness  by  the  people. 
When  his  strength  was  sufficiently  recruited,  he  procured  a  boat,  and 
went  after  the  wrecked  goods,  which  he  found  and  brought  off.  He 
then  started  overland  for  Buffalo,  where  he  disposed  of  part  of  his 
treasure,  and  with  the  proceeds  furnished  himself  with  a  complete 
outfit.  Here,  finding  the  Trawler,  Captain  Brown,  from  Conneaut, 
in  the  harbor,  he  engaged  passage  on  board  of  her.  The  Captain 
and  crew,  having  heard  of  his  disappearance,  looked  upon  him 
almost  as  one  risen  from  the  dead.  His  story  was  so  astonishing  as 
hardly  to  be  credible ;  but  as  he  was  there,  in  person,  to  verify  it, 
they  were  obliged  to  believe  the  testimony. 

Within  a  day  or  two,  he  was  on  his  way  to  rejoin  his  family,  who, 
the  Captain  informed  him,  had  given  him  up,  and  were  in  great 
grief  and  distress.  When  the  packet  arrived  opposite  the  house,  the 
crew  gave  three  loud,  long  and  hearty  cheers,  and  fired  guns  from 
the  deck  in  token  of  joy,  which  led  the  family  to  anticipate  his 
return. 

On  landing,  he  found  that  his  funeral  sermon  had  been  preached, 
and  had  the  rare  privilege  of  seeing  his  own  widow  clothed  in  the 
habiliments  of  mourning. 

Deer  hunting,  even  down  to  a  recent  period,  was  a  chosen  amuse 
ment  in  Ohio.  At  this  time  the  animal  is  only  found  in  the  great 
forests  of  the  north-west  counties  of  Paulding,  Van  Wart,  Williams, 
etc.,  and  in  the  heavy  woods  of  Wyandot  and  Hardin  counties. 
Saudusky  Bay,  an  estuary  of  Lake  Erie,  and  one  of  the  most  beautiful 
sheets  of  water  in  America,  is  yet  a  great  sportsman's  resort,  though 
now  chiefly  for  wild  water-fowl,  whose  spring  and  fall  season  calls 
thither  many  a  modern  Nimrod.  The  writer  of  this  has  spent  many 
a  season  among  the  marshes  and  overflow-lands  at  the  head  of  the 
bay  in  pursuit  of  game  which,  with  proper  care,  will  continue  for 
years  to  afford  good  gunning.  Only  keep  out  the  murderous  blunder 
busses  of  certain  Englishmen,  which  sweep  away  a  whole  flock  of 
green-heads  and  canvas-backs  at  a  shot.  We  have  often  been  tempted 
to  have  arrested,  as  a  common  nuisance,  these  sneaking  prowlers 
after  "  a  shot  for  twenty  birds— not  a  whit  less."  But  it  was  not  of 

137 


10  TALES   AND    TRADITIONS. 

birds  we  are  to  write.  Sandnsky  Bay,  in  days  gone  by,  used  to 
afford  rare  sport  in  deer-hunting  in  the  water.  To  illustrate : 

The  bay  is  bounded  on  the  east  by  a  narrow  strip  of  sand  and  cedars, 
which  divides  it  from  Lake  Erie.  On  the  north  is  the  peninsula, 
another  strip  of  rich  soil,  once  densely  covered  with  forests,  stretching 
far  to  the  west.  The  sport  practiced  in  early  times  was  to  drive  the 
deer  with  dogs  from  Cedar  Point  and  the  peninsula  into  the  water, 
when  they  would  make  for  the  opposite  shore,  above  the  town  of  San- 
diisky.  The  heads  of  the  beautiful  animals  could  be  seen  a  great  dis 
tance,  as  they  glided  along  the  surface  of  the  clear  waters.  Then  boats 
would  put  out,  in  each  of  which  was  a  dog— no  guns  being  allowed— 
the  men  being  armed  only  with  a  knife.  The  deer  always  would  scent 
the  danger  from  afar,  and,  with  extraordinary  celerity,  move  off  up  the 
bay,  followed  by  the  boats.  When  a  comparatively  near  approach  was 
at  length  made,  after  hard  pulling  for  two  or  three  miles,  the  dogs 
were  let  loose.  Being  fresh,  and  the  deer  somewhat  exhausted  from 
their  long  swim,  the  dogs  would  gain  on  their  prey  rapidly,  and  soon 
the  struggle  in  the  water  would  commence — the  noble  bucks  always 
receiving  their  enemy,  while  the  ewes  and  fawns  were  kept  out  of 
harm's  reach.  The  bucks  were,  if  not  too  much  exhausted,  quite  a 
match  for  the  dogs.'  Not  unfrequently  their  antlers  would  crimson 
the  water  with  the  blood  of  their  canine  foe.  The  boats,  mean 
while,  were  but  spectators  of  the  contest,  and  only  came  up  when 
their  dogs  showed  signs  of  defeat.  A  good  dog,  however,  generally 
succeeded  in  fastening  to  the  throat  of  his  prey,  and  there  clung  with 
such  tenacity  as  to  sink  and  rise  with  the  buck,  avoiding  the  terrific 
strokes  of  its  hoofs  by  laying  close  to  the  deer's  body.  One  blow 
of  a  fore-hoof  has  been  known  to  smash  the  skull  of  a  mastiff.  The 
sport,  to  those  in  the  boats,  is  exciting  in  the  extreme ;  but  strict 
honor  used  to  govern  the  combats.  The  fawns  and  most  of  the 
ewes  were  permitted  to  escape,  and  the  bucks  were  only  slaughtered 
with  the  knife  when  it  became  evident  that  the  dogs  would  be  over 
powered,  or  when  some  favorite  mastiff  brought  his  game  to  the  boat 
in  a  conquered  condition. 

A  startling  adventure  once  occurred  in  the  waters  of  the  bay.  A 
well-known  hunter,  named  Dick  Moxon,  somewhat  addicted  to  drink, 
one  day  saw  a  fine  drove  of  deer  coming  in  to  land  from  the  opposite 
*188 


DICK    MOXON'S    FIGHT    WITH   THE    DEER.  11 

shore.  He  at  once  advanced,  knife  in  hand,  into  the  water  to  his 
waist.  The  bucks,  three  of  them,  led  the  convoy,  and  made  directly 
for  their  enemy  to  coyer  the  retreat  of  the  females.  The  hunter 
found  himself  in  a  position  of  imminent  clanger,  and  sought  to  retreat, 
but  this  the  deer  did  not  permit,  as  one  of  them  drove  him  down 
into  the  water  by  a  terrible  butt  with  his  ugly  antlers.  Moxon 
grappled  the  deer,  but  the  animal  trampled  the  hunter  and  kept  him 
down.  With  great  presence  of  mind,  Moxon  disappeared  under 
water  and  swam  for  the  shore,  coming  up  a  rod  nearer  the  land. 
This  dodge  did  not  save  him,  however,  for  the  infuriated  bucks  pur 
sued,  and  soon  the  combat  became  terrible.  Moxon  cut  right  and 
left  with  his  knife,  making  shocking  wounds  in  the  glistening  bodies 
of  the  noble  beasts ;  but  the  fight  was  not  stayed,  and  the  hunter's 
strength,  so  severely  overtaxed  in  the  first  encounter  in  deep  water, 
began  to  give  way  entirely.  A  few  minutes  more  must  have  seen 
him  down  in  the  water  under  the  hoofs  of  the  frenzied  animals.  At 
this  moment  a  woman  appeared  on  the  shore.  It  was  Moxon's  wife, 
whose  cabin  was  not  far  distant  in  the  woods.  Sally  Moxou  was  as 
"coarse  as  a  cow,  but  brave  as  a  catamount,"  as  her  husband  always 
averred  ;  and  so  she  proved  in  this  moment  of  Dick's  peril.  Seizing 
his  rifle,  which  lay  on  the  bank,  she  advanced  to  the  rescue.  One 
buck  quickly  fell  from  the  well-aimed  shot.  Then  she  "  clubbed" 
her  gun,  and  made  at  the  nearest  beast  with  great  caution.  The 
buck  made  a  furious  dash  at  her,  leaping  at  a  bound  out  of  the  water, 
almost  upon  her,  but  Sally  was  wide  awake,  and  was  not  caught  by 
the  ugly  horns  and  hoofs.  She  struck  the  beast  such  a  blow  on  its 
neck  as  broke  both  the  gunstock  and  the  buck's  spinal  column. 
With  the  rifle-barrel  still  in.  her  hand,  Sally  then  made  for  the  last 
buck,  a  very  savage  fellow,  who  still  confronted  Dick  in  a  threaten 
ing  manner.  The  fight  which  followed  was  severe.  Sally  was 
knocked  down  into  the  water,  but  Moxon's  knife  saved  his  spouse 
from  being  "trampled  into  a  pudding,"  as  he  afterward  expressed  it. 
With  all  his  remaining  strength,  he  seized  the  deer  by  the  horns, 
while  with  his  left  hand  he  buried  his  knife  to  the  hilt  in  the  ani 
mal's  shoulder.  The  deer  fell  in  the  water,  and  Moxon  went  down 
under  him ;  but  Sally  was,  by  this  time,  on  her  feet  again,  and  drag 
ged  Dick's  almost  inanimate  form  to  the  shore.  The  victory  was 

139 


12  TALKS    AND    TRADITIONS. 

complete,  though  Dick  was  so  terribly  bruised  that  the  meat  of  the 
three  bucks  was  long  gone  before  the  hunter  could  again  go  forth 
to  kill  more.  The  moral  of  the  story  is  that  he  learned  not  only 
never  to  attack  three  bucks,  single-handed,  in  four  feet  of  water,  but 
to  let  the  whisky  bottle  alone. 

The  adventure  which  we  are  now  about  to  chronicle  is  quite  as 
marvelous  as  those  above  related,  although  of  another  character. 
It  is  deeply  interesting,  as  illustrating  one  of  the  many  phases  of 
danger  which  constantly  lurked  on  the  steps  of  the  pioneers.  Start 
ling  as  were  the  romantic  realities  of  those  early  days,  needing  not 
the  touch  of  fiction  to  heighten  their  interest,  it  will  be  confessed 
that  few  incidents  can  equal  this  for  a  novel  combination  of  perils. 

The  family  of  John  Lewis  were  the  first  settlers  of  Augusta,  in  the 
State  of  Virginia,  and  consisted  of  himself,  his  wife,  and  four  sons, 
Thomas,  William,  Andrew  and  Charles.  Of  these,  the  first  three 
were  born  in  Ireland,  from  whence  the  family  came,  and  the  last 
was  a  native  of  Virginia. 

Lewis  was  a  man  of  wealth  and  station  in  the  old  country,  and 
the  cause  of  his  present  emigration  to  America  was  an  attempt,  on 
the  part  of  a  man  of  whom  he  hired  some  property,  to  eject  him 
therefrom,  which  led  to  an  affray,  in  which  the  noble  landlord  lost 
his  life.  Fearing,  from  the  high  standing  of  his  antagonist,  the 
desperate  character  of  his  surviving  assailants,  and  the  want  of  evi 
dence  to  substantiate  his  case,  that  his  life  would  be  in  danger  if  he 
stayed,  Lewis  fled  the  country,  accompanied  by  a  party  of  his  tenantry, 
and  settled  in  the  then  western  wilds  of  Virginia. 

The  father  appears  to  have  been  a  man  of  remarkable  force  and 
energy,  and  all  four  of  his  sous  rendered  themselves  conspicuous  for 
deeds  of  daring  and  determined  bravery  during  the  early  history  of 
Western  Virginia,  and  that  of  her  infant  sisters,  Ohio  and  Kentucky, 
which  would  require  volumes  to  relate. 

Charles  Lewis,  the  hero  of  this  sketch,  was,  even  in  early  youth, 
distinguished  for  those  qualifications  which  have  rendered  the  class 
to  which  he  belonged— the  Indian  fighters— so  remarkable  among 
men.  .He  was  a  young  man  when  the  Indians  commenced  their 
attacks  upon  the  settlement  of  Western  Virginia,  but  entered  the 
contest  with  a  zeal  and  courage  which  outstripped  many  of  his 
140 


LEWIS    AND    THE    RATTLESNAKE.  13 

older  and  more  boastful  compeers.  His  astonishing  self-possession 
and  presence  of  mind  carried  him  safely  through  many  a  gallant 
exploit,  which  has  rendered  his  name  as  familiar,  and  his  fame  as 
dear  to  the  memories  of  the  descendants  of  the  early  settlers,  as 
household  words.  Cool,  cairn  and  collected  in  the  face  of  danger, 
and  quick-witted  where  others  would  be  excited  and  tremulous,  he 
was  able  to  .grasp  on  the  instant  the  propitious  moment  for  action, 
and  render  subservient  to  his  own  advantage  the  most  trifling 
incident. 

He  was  so  unfortunate,  on  one  occasion,  as  to  be  taken  prisoner 
by  a  party  of  Indians  while  on  a  hunting  excursion.  Separated  from 
his  companions,  he  was  surprised  and  surrounded  before  he  was 
aware  of  his  danger,  and  when  he  did  become  aware  of  his  critical 
situation,  he  saw  how  futile  it  was  to  contend,  and  how  reckless  and 
fatal  it  must  be  to  himself,  should  he  kill  one  of  his  antagonists. 
He  knew  full  well  that  the  blood  of  his  enemy  would  be  washed 
out  in  his  own,  and  that,  too,  at  the  stake  ;  whereas,  if  he  surren 
dered  peaceably,  he  stood  a  chance  of  being  adopted  by  the  Indians 
as  one  of  themselves.  Revolving  these  things  in  his  mind,  he 
quietly  delivered  up  his  rifle  to  his  captors,  who  rejoiced  exceedingly 
over  their  prisoner.  Bareheaded,  with  his  arms  bound  tightly  be 
hind  him,  without  a  coat,  and  barefooted,  he  was  driven  forward 
some  two  hundred  miles  toward  the  Indian  towns,  his  inhuman  cap 
tors  urging  him  on  when  he  lagged,  with  their  knives,  and  tauntingly 
reminding  him  of  the  trials  which  awaited  him  at  the  end  of  his 
journey.  Nothing  daunted,  however,  by  their  threats  and  menaces, 
he  marched  on  in  the  weary  path  which  led  him  further  and  further 
from  his  friends,  perfectly  tractable,  so  far  as  his  body  was  concerned, > 
but  constantly  busy  in  his  mind  with  schemes  of  escape.  He  bided 
Iris  time,  and  at  length  the  wished-for  moment  came. 

As  the  distance  from  the  white  settlements  increased,  the  vigilance 
of  the  Indians  relaxed,  and  his  hopes  strengthened.  As  the  party 
passed  aloug  the  edge  of  a  precipice,  some  twenty  feet  high,  at  the 
foot  of  which  ran  a  mountain  torrent,  he,  by  a  powerful  effort,  broke 
the  cords  which  bound  his  arms,  and  made  the  leap.  The  Indians, 
whose  aim  was  to  take  him  alive,  followed  him,  and  then  commenced 
a  race  for  life  and  liberty,  which  was  rendered  the  more  exciting  by 

141 


14*  TALES      AND    TRADITIONS. 

the  fact  that  his  pursuers  were  close  upon  him,  and  could  at  any 
moment  have  dispatched  him.  But  such  was  not  their  desire,  and 
on,  on  he  sped,  now  buoyed  up  by  hope  as  his  recent  captors  were 
lost  to  sight,  and  anon  despairing  of  success  as  he  crossed  an  open 
space  which  showed  them  almost  at  his  heels.  At  length,  taking 
advantage  of  a  thicket,  through  which  he  passed,  and  which  hid 
him  from  their  sight  for  a  moment,  he  darted  aside  and  essayed  to 
leap  a  fallen  tree  which  lay  across  his  path.  The  tangled  under 
brush  and  leaves  which  grew  thickly  around  and  almost  covered  the 
decaying  trunk,  tripped  him  as  he  leaped,  and  he  fell  with  consid 
erable  force  on  the  opposite  side.  For  an  instant  he  was  so  stunned 
by  the  fall  as  to  lose  his  consciousness,  but  soon  recovered  it  to  find 
that  the  Indians  were  searching  every  nook  in  his  immediate  vicinity, 
and  that  he  had  fallen  almost  directly  upon  a  large  rattlesnake  which 
had  thrown  itself  into  the  deadly  coil  so  near  his  face  that  his  fangs 
were  within  a  few  inches  of  his  nose.  Is  it  possible  for  the  most 
vivid  imagination  to  conceive  of  a  more  horrible  and  terrifying 
situation  ? 

Tiie  pursuit  of  his  now  highly  exasperated  and  savage  enemies, 
who  thirsted  for  his  recapture  that  they  might  wreak  upon  him  an 
appalling  revenge,  which  of  itself  was  a  danger  calculated  to  thrill  the 
nerves  of  the  stoutest  system,  had  now  become  a  secondary  fear, 
for  death  in  one  of  its  most  terrifying  and  soul-sickening  forms  was 
vibrating  on  the  tongue,  and  darting  from  the  eye  of  the  reptile 
before  him,  so  near,  too,  that  the  vibratory  motion  of  his  rattle  as 
it  waved  to  and  fro,  caused  it  to  strike  his  ear.  The  slightest  move 
ment  of  a  muscle — a  convulsive  shudder — almost  the  winking  of  an 
eyelid,  would  have  been  the  signal  for  his  death.  Yet,  in  the  midst 
of  this  terrible  danger,  his  presence  of  mind  did  not  leave  him,  but4 
like  a  faithful  friend  did  him  good  service  in  his  hour  of  trial.  Know 
ing  the  awful  nature  of  his  impending  fate,  and  conscious  that  the 
slightest  quivering  of  a  nerve  would  percipitate  it,  he  scarcely 
breathed,  and  the  blood  flowed  feebly  through  his  veins  as  he  lay 
looking  death  in  the  eye.  Surrounded  thus  by  double  peril,  he  was 
conscious  that  three  of  the  Indians  had  passed  over  the  log  behind 
which  he  lay  without  observing  him,  and  disappeared  in  the  dark 
recesses  of  the  forest.  Several  minutes— which  to  him  were  as  many 
142 


COLONEL    HOURY,    OF    "  MARION'S    BRIGADE."  15 

hours— passed  in  this  terrifying  situation,  until  the  snake,  apparently 
satisfied  that  he  was  dead,  loosed  his  threatening  coil,  and  passing 
directly  over  his  body,  was  lost  to  sight  in  the  luxuriant  growth  of 
weeds  which  grew  up  around  the  fallen  tree.  Oh  !  what  a  thrill — 
what  a  revulsion  of  feeling  shook  his  frame  as  he  was  relieved  from 
this  awful  suspense.  Tears — tears  of  joyous  gratitude  coursed  down 
his  cheeks  as  he  poured  out  his  heart  to  God  in  thankfulness  for  his 
escape.  "  I  had  eaten  nothing,"  said  he  to  his  companions,  after  his 
return,  "  for  many  days  ;  I  had  no  fire-arms,  and  I  ran  the  risk  of 
dying  with  hunger  before  I  could  reach  the  settlements;  but  rather 
would  I  have  died  than  have  made  a  meal  of  that  generous  beast.* 
He  was  still  in  imminent  danger  from  the  Indians,  who  knew  that 
he  had  hidden  in  some  secluded  spot,  and  were  searching  with  the 
utmost  zeal  every  nook  and  corner  to  find  him.  He  was  fortunate 
enough,  however,  to  escape  them,  and  after  a  weary  march  through 
the  wilderness,  during  which  he  suffered  intensely  from  hunger,  he 
reached  the  settlements. 


COLONEL  HORRY,  OF  "  MARIOFS  BRIGADE." 

IT  is  much  to  be  regretted  that  the  chronicles  of  the  war  of  the  Rev 
olution  in  the  South  are  so  meager  in  personal  incidents.  There  can 
be  but  one  reason  for  this  :  the  want  of  a  local  historian  to  gather 
up  and  preserve  in  print  the  details  of  the  contest,  ere  the  actors  of 
those  stirring  scenes  had  passed  from  the  stage — for  the  wild  and 
stirring  adventures  of  "  Marion's  Men,"  and  of  others  in  North  and 
South  Carolina,  must  have  been  as  full  of  romance  as  the  heart  of 
the  historian  could-  desire. 

It  is  fortunate  that  one  of  Marion's  oflicers  did  wield  the  pen  a 
little,  as  well  as  the  sword.  Colonel  Horry  served  under  General 
Marion.  His  adventures  were  numerous  and  some  of  them  amusing. 
He  left  a  manuscript  memoir,  giving  the  particulars  of  some  of  his 
exploits,  among  others  the  one  illustrated  in  our  engraving. 

*  It  was  no  unusual  thing  for  hungry  hunters,  like  the  Indians,  to  dine  upon 
broiled  rattlesnake! 

143 


10  TALES    AND    TRADITIONS. 

He  was  brave,  and  ambitious  of  distinction.  This  ambition  led 
him  to  desire  a  command  of  cavalry  rather  than  of  infantry.  But 
he  was  no  rider— was  several  times  unhorsed  in  combat,  and  was 
indebted  to  the  fidelity  of  his  soldiers  for  his  safety.  On  one  occa 
sion  his  escape  was  more  narrow  from  a  different  cause.  Crossing 
the  swamp  at  Lynch's  Creek,  to  join  Marion,  in  the  dark,  and  the 
horse  swimming,  he  encountered  the  bough  of  a  tree,  to  which  he 
clung  while  his  horse  passed  from  under  him.  He  was  no  swimmer, 
and  but  for  timely  assistance  from  his  followers  would  have  been 
drowned. 

Another  story  is  told  of  him  which  places  him  in  a  scarcely  less 
ludicrous  attitude : 

He  was  ordered  by  Marion  to  await,  in  ambush,  the  approach  of 
a  British  detachment.  The  duty  was  executed  with  skill :  the  enemy 
was  completely  in  his  power.  But  he  labored  under  an  impediment 
in  his  speech,  which  we  may  readily  suppose  was  greatly  increased 
by  anxiety  and  excitement.  The  word  "  Fire  !"  stuck  in  his  throat, 
as  "  amen"  did  in  that  of  Macbeth.  The  emergency  was  pressing, 
but  this  only  increased  the  difficulty.  In  vain  did  he  make  the 
attempt.  He  could  say  :  "  Fi — fi — fi  1"  but  he  could  get  no  further  ; 
the  "  er  "  was  incorrigible.  At  length,  irritated  almost  to  madness, 
he  exclaimed  : 

"  Shoot,  d — n  you,  shoot  !  you  know  what  I  wTould  say  !  Shoot, 
and  be  d d  to  you  !" 

He  was  present,  and  acted  bravely,  in  almost  every  affair  of  con 
sequence,  in  the  brigade  of  Marion.  At  Quimly,  Captain  Baxter,  a 
man  distinguished  by  his  great  strength  and  courage,  as  well  as  size, 
and  by  equally  great  simplicity  of  character,  cried  out : 

"  I  am  wounded,  Colonel !" 

"  Think  no  more  of  it,  Baxter,"  was  the  answer  of  Horry,  "  but 
stand  to  your  post." 

"  But  I  can't  stand,"  says  Baxter,  "  I  am  wounded  a  second  time." 

**  Lie  down  then,  Baxter,  but  quit  not  your  post." 

"They  have  shot  me  again,  Colonel,"  said  the  wounded  man,  "and 
if  I  stay  any  longer  here,  I  shall  be  shot  to  pieces." 

"  Be  it  so,  Baxter,  but  stir  not,"  was  the  order,  which   the  brave 
fellow  obeyed,  receiving  a  fourth  wound  ere  the  engagement  was  over. 
144 


COLONEL    IIORRY,    OF    "  MARION'S    BRIGADE."  19 

Another  adventure  is  thus  related  by  Hony  himself:  "  I  was 
sent,"  he  writes, "  by  General  Marion  to  reconnoiter  Georgetown.  I 
proceeded  with  a  guide  through  the  woods  all  night.  At  the  dawn 
of  day,  I  drew  near  the  town.  I  laid  an  ambuscade,  with  thirty 
men  and  three  officers,  near  the  road.  About  sunrise  a  chair  ap 
peared  with  two  ladies  escorted  by  two  British  officers.  I  was  ready 
in  advance  with  an  officer  to  cut  them  off,  but  reflecting  that  they 
might  escape,  and  alarm  the  town,  which  would  prevent  my  taking 
greater  numbers,  I  desisted.  The  officers  and  chair  halted  very  near 
me,  but  soon  the  chair  went  on,  and  the  officers  galloped  in  retro 
grade  into  the  town.  Our  party  continued  in  ambush,  until  ten 
o'clock,  A.  M.  Nothing  appearing,  and  men  and  horses  having  eaten 
nothing  for  thirty-six  hours,  we  were  hungered,  and  retired  to  a  plan 
tation  of  my  quartermaster's,  a  Mr.  White,  not  far  distant.  There 
a  curious  scene  took  place.  •  As  soon  as  I  entered  the  house,  four 
ladies  appeared,  two  of  whom  were  Mrs.  White  and  her  daughter. 
I  was  asked  what  I  wanted.  I  answered,  food,  refreshment.  The 
other  two  ladies  were  those  whom  I  had  seen  escorted  by  the  British 
officers.  They  seemed  greatly  agitated,  and  begged  most  earnestly 
that  I  would  go  away,  for  the  family  was  very  poor,  had  no  provi 
sions  of  any  sort — that  I  knew  that  they  were  Whigs,  and  surely 
would  not  add  to  their  distress.  So  pressing  were  they  for  my  im 
mediately  leaving  the  plantation,  that  I  thought  they  had  more  in 
view  than  they  pretended.  I  kept  my  eyes  on  Mrs.  White,  and  saw 
she  had  a  smiling  countenance,  but  said  nothing.  Soon  she  left  the 
room,  and  I  left  it  also  and  went  into  the  piazza,  laid  my  cap,  sword 
and  pistols  on  the  long  bench,  and  walked  the  piazza  ; — when  I 
discovered  Mrs.  White  behind  the  house  chimney  beckoning  me.  I 
got  to  her,  undiscovered  by  the  young  ladies,  when  she  said  :  '  Col 
onel  Horry,  be  on  your  guard  ;  these  two  ladies,  Miss  F —  and  M — , 
are  just  from  Georgetown ;  they  are  much  frightened,  and  I  believe 
the  British  are  leaving  it  and  may  soon  attack  you.  As  to  provi 
sions,  which  they  make  such  a  rout  about,  I  have  plenty  for  your 
men  and  horses  in  yonder  barn,  but  you  must  affect  to  take  them  by 
force.  Hams,  bacon,  rice  and  fodder  are  there.  You  must  insist 
on  the  key  of  the  barn,  and  threaten  to  split  the  door  with  an  ax 
if  not  immediately  opened.'  I  begged  her  to  say  no  more,  for  I  was 

147 


20  TALES    AND    TRADITIONS. 

well  acquainted  with  all  such  matters— to  leave  the  ladies  and  every 
thing  else  to  my  management.  She  said  '  Yes ;  but  do  not  ruin  us : 
be  artful  and  cunning,  or  Mr.  White  may  be  hanged  and  all  our 
houses  burned  over  our  heads.'  We  both  secretly  returned,  she  to 
the  room  where  the  young  ladies  were,  and  I  to  the  piazza  I  had 
just  left." 

This  little  narrative  will  give  some  idea  of  the  straits  to  which 
the  good  whig  matrons  of  Carolina  were  sometimes  reduced  in  those 
days.  But  no  time  was  allowed  Horry  to  extort  the  provisions  as 
suggested.  He  had  scarcely  got  to  the  piazza  when  his  videttes  gave 
the  alarm.  Two  shots  warned  him  of  the  approach  of  the  foe,  and 
forgetting  that  his  cap,  saber  and  pistols  lay  on  the  long  bench  on 
the  piazza,  Horry  mounted  his  horse,  left  the  inclosure,  and  rushed 
into  the  melee  The  British  were  seventeen  in  number,  well  mounted 
and  commanded  by  a  brave  fellow  named  Merritt.  The  dragoons, 
taken  by  surprise,  turned  in  flight,  and,  smiting  at  every  step,  the 
partisans  pursued  them  with  fatal  earnestness.  But  two  men  are 
reported  to  have  escaped  death  or  captivity,  and  they  were  their 
Captain  and  a  Sergeant.  It  was  in  approaching  to  encounter  Men-it 
that  Horry  discovered  that  he  was  weaponless.  "  My  officers,"  says 
he,  "  in  succession,  came  up  with  Captain  Merritt,  who  was  in  the 
rear  of  his  party,  urging  them  forward.  They  engaged  him.  He 
was  a  brave  fellow.  Baxter,  with  pistols,  fired  at  his  breast,  and 
missing  him,  retired  ;  Postelle  and  Greene,  with  swords,  engaged 
him  ;  both  were  beaten  off.  Greene  nearly  lost  his  head.  His  buck 
skin  breeches  were  cut  through  several  inches.  I  almost  blush  to 
say  that  this  one  British  officer  beat  off  three  Americans."  The 
honor  of  the  day  was  decidedly  with  Merritt,  though  he  was  beaten. 
He  was:no  doubt  a  far  better  swordsman  than  our  self-taught  cav 
alry,  with  broadswords  wrought  out  of  mill-saws.  Merritt  abandoned 
his  horse,  and  escaped  to  a  neighboring  swamp,  from  whence,  at 
midnight,  he  got  into  Georgetown. 

Colonel  Horry,  after  the  war,  met  Captain  Merritt  in  New  York, 
when  the  latter  recognized  him,  and  in  the  interview  which  followed, 
confessed,  that  although  so  desperate  in  his  self-defense  he  was 
never  more  frightened  in  his  life. 

"  Believe  me,  sir,"  said  he,  "  when  I  assure  you  that  I  went  out 
148 


COLONEL    HORRY,    OF    "  MARION'S    BRIGADE.  21 

that  morning  with  my  locks  as  bright  an  auburn  as  ever  curled  upon 
the  forehead  of  youth,  but  by  the  time  I  had  crawled  out  of  the 
swamp  into  Georgetown  that  night,  they  were  as  gray  as  a  badger  I" 
If  this  is  true,  he  must  indeed  have  been  wofully  frightened,  for 
the  records  of  such  an  effect  of  terror  are  few  and  far  between.  One 
of  Byron's  heroes  says  that 

"  His  locks  grew  white, 
In  a  single  night." 
But  that  was  with  grief,  and  not  with  fear. 

Kerry's  award  of  praise  to  the  British  Captain  for  his  courage  in 
beating  off  three  of  his  own  men,  was  both  generous  and  ingenious, 
when  it  is  considered  that  the  Englishman  was  a  scientific  swords 
man,  possessing  a  superior  weapon,  while  his  antagonists  were  self- 
taught,  and  their  swords,  if  not  beaten  out  of  "  plowshares,"  were 
veritably  made  out  of  mill-saws. 

In  one  of  his  numerous  encounters,  while  his  men  were  individu 
ally  engaged  and  scattered  through  the  woods  around  him,  he  sud 
denly  found  himself  alone,  and  assailed  by  a  Tory  Captain,  named 
Lewis,  at  the  head  of  a  small  party.  Lewis  was  armed  with  a 
musket,  and  in  the  act  of  firing,  when  an  unexpected  shot  from  the 
woods  tumbled  him  off  his  horse,  in  the  very  moment  when  his  own 
gun  was  discharged.  The  bullet  of  Lewis  took  effect  on  Horry's 
horse.  The  shot  which  so  seasonably  slew  the  Tory  was  sent' by  the 
hand  of  a  boy  named  Given. 

Colonel  Horry  gives,  in  his  memoirs,  a  good  illustration  of  the 
mingled  firmness  and  forbearance  with  which  Marion  enforced  disci 
pline  amidst  men  and  circumstances  not  any  too  easily  governed. 
Marion  had  placed  one  of  his  detachments  at  the  plantation  of  George 
Crofts,  on  Tampit  Creek.  This  person  had  proved  invariably  true 
to  the  American  cause  ;  had  supplied  the  partisans  frequently,  though 
secretly,  with  munitions  of  war,  cattle  and  provisions.  He  was  an 
invalid,  however,  suffering  from  a  mortal  infirmity,  which  compelled 
his  removal,  for  medical  attendance,  to  Georgetown,  then  in  posses 
sion  of  the  enemy.  During  the  absence  of  the  family,  Marion 
placed  a  Sergeant  in  the  house  for  its  protection.  This  guard  was  ex 
pelled  from  the  premises  by  two  officers  of  the  brigade,  who  stripped 
the  house  of  its  contents.  Colonel  Horry  disclosed  these  facts  to 

U9 


23  TALES    AND    TRADITIONS. 

General  Marion— the  Colonel  having  received  them  from  Mrs.  Crofts, 
who  had  pointed  to  the  sword  of  her  husband  hanging  by  the  side  of 
the  principal  offender.  The  indignation  of  Marion  was  not  apt  to 
expend  itself  in  words.  Redress  was  promised  to  the  complainant, 
and  she  was  dismissed. 

The  offenders  were  men  of  some  influence,  and  had  a  small  fac 
tion  in  the  brigade,  which  had  already  proved  troublesome,  and 
which  might  easily  become  dangerous.  One  of  them  was  a  Major, 
the  other  a  Captain.  They  were  in  command  of  a  company  of  men 
known  as  the  Georgia  Refugees.  Upon  the  minds  of  these  men  the 
offenders  had  already  sought  to  act,  in  reference  to  the  expected  col 
lision  with  their  General. 

Marion  dispatched  Horry  to  the  person  who  had  possession  of 
the  sword  of  Crofts,  with  a  formal  demand  for  the  weapon.  He 
refused  to  give  it  up,  alleging  that  it  was  his,  and  taken  in  war. 

"  If  the  General  wants  it,"  he  added,  "  let  him  come  for  it  him 
self." 

When  this  reply  was  communicated  to  Marion,  he  instructed 
Horry  to  renew  the  demand.  His  purpose  seems  to  have  been,  dis 
covering  the  temper  of  the  offender,  to  gain  the  necessary  time.  His 
officers,  meanwhile,  were  gathering  around  him.  He  was  making 
his  preparations  for  a  struggle  which  might  be  bloody— which  might, 
indeed,  involve,  not  only  the  safety  of  the  brigade,  but  his  own 
future  usefulness.  Horry,  with  proper  spirit,  entreated  not  to  be 
sent  again  to  the  refractory  officer,  giving  as  the  reason  for  his  reluc 
tance,  that,  in  consequence  of  the  previous  rudeness  of  the  other,  he 
was  not  in  the  mood  to  tolerate  a  repetition  of  the  indignity,  and 
might,  if  irritated,  be  provoked  to  violence. 

Marion  then  dispatched  his  orderly  to  the  guilty  Major,  with  a 
civil  request  that  he  might  see  him  at  head-quarters.  The  Major 
appeared,  accompanied  by  the  Captain  who  had  joined  him  in  the 
outrage,  and  under  whose  influence  he  appeared  to  act.  Marion 
renewed  his  demand,  in  person,  for  the  sword  of  Crofts.  The  Major 
again  refused  to  deliver  it,  asserting  that  Crofts  was  a  Tory,  even  then 
with  the  enemy  in  Georgetown. 

"  Will  you  deliver  me  the  sword,  Major  ?"  repeated  the  General. 

"  I  will  not." 
150 


COLONEL    IIORKY,  OF    "  MARION'S    BRIGADE."  2-j 

"At  these  words,"  says  Horry,  in  liis  memoirs,  "I  could  forbear 
no  longer,  and  said  with  great  Avarmth,  and  a  great  oath  :  "  Did  I, 
sir,  command  this  brigade,  as  you  do,  I  would  hang  them  both  in 
half  an  hour !" 

Marion  sternly  replied  : 

"  This  is  none  of  your  business,  sir ;  they  are  before  me  !  Ser 
geant  of  the  guard,  bring  me  a  file  of  men  with  loaded  arms  and 
fixed  bayonets." 

"  I  was  silent,"  added  Horry.  "  All  our  field-officers  in  camp  were 
present,  and  they  had  put  their  hands  to  their  swords  in  readiness 
to  draw.  My  own  sword  was  already  drawn." 

In  the  regular  service,  with  officers  bred  up  to  the  severe  sense  of 
authority  considered  necessary  to  proper  discipline,  the  offender 
would  probably  have  been  hewn  down  in  the  moment  of  disobedience. 
The  effect  of  such  a  measure,  in  this  instance,  might  have  been  most, 
unhappy.  The  esprit  du  corps  might  have  prompted  the  Major's 
immediate  followers  to  have  resisted,  and,  though  annihilated,  as 
Horry  says  they  would  have  been,  yet  several  valuable  lives  would 
have  been  lost,  which  their  country  could  ill  spare.  The  mutiny 
would  have  been  put  down,  but  at  what  a  price  ! 

The  patience  and  prudence  of  Marion's  character  taught  him 
forbearance.  His  mildness,  by  putting  the  offender  entirely  in  the 
wrong,  so  justified  his  severity,  as  to  disarm  the  followers  of  the 
criminals,  who  were  about  sixty  in  number. 

Horry  continues  :  "  The  purpose  of  the  officers  was,  to  call  upon 
these  men  for  support — we  well  knew  they  meant,  if  possible,  to  in 
timidate  Marion,  so  as  to  compel  him  to  come  into  their  measures  of 
plunder  and  Tory  killing.  The  affair,  fortunately,  terminated  with 
out  any  bloodshed.  The  prudence  of  the  General  had  its  effect. 
The  delay  gave  time  to  the  offender  for  reflection.  Perhaps,  look 
ing  around  upon  their  followers,  they  saw  no  consenting  spirit  of 
mutiny  in  their  eyes  ;  for,  though  many  of  the  refugees  were  present, 
none  offered  to  back  the  mutinous  officers — and  when  the  guard 
which  was  ordered  appeared  in  sight,  the  companion  of  the  offender 
was  seen  to  touch  the  arm  of  the  other,  who  then  proffered  the 
sword  to  Marion,  saying: 

"  '  General,  you  need  not  have  sent  for  the  guard.'  " 

115 


24  TALES    AND    TRADITIONS. 

Marion,  refusing  to  receive  it,  referred  him  to  the  Sergeant  of  the 
guard,  and  thus,  doubly  degraded,  the  dishonored  Major  of  the  Con 
tinentals  disappeared  from  sight,  followed  by  his  associate: 

Another  one  of  Marion's  bravest  men  was  Sergeant  Jasper,  of 
whom  the  readers  of  a  former  number  have  already  heard  in  connec 
tion  with  the  melancholy  and  romantic  story  of  the  young  Creole 
girl,  who  followed  him  to  camp,  in  the  disguise  of  a  soldier,  and 
sacrificed  her  life  to  preserve  that  of  the  man  she  loved,  by  rushing 
in  between  him  and  the  shot  aimed  at  his  breast. 

Sergeant  William  Jasper,  at  the  time  of  the  affair  which  we  are 
about  to  relate,  belonged  to  the  Second  regiment  of  the  South  Caro 
lina  militia,  having  enlisted  under  Marion,  who  was  then  a  Captain. 
Jasper,  from  the  day  of  his  entering  the  camp,  had  been  proverbial 
for  his  bravery.  His  coolness  and  valor  in  times  of  emergency,  and 
more  than  all,  his  utter  disregard  of  danger,  had  won  for  him  the 
golden  opinions  of  his  comrades,  with  the  esteem  and  confidence  of 
his  commander.  Jasper  possessed  remarkable  talents  and  capacity 
for  a  scout.  Bold,  active  and  shrewd,  with  a  frame  capable  of  every 
endurance— the  result  of  a  hardy,  backwoods  life— and  retaining 
those  noble  qualities  of  bravery  and  generosity  which  were  the 
shining  points  of  his  character,  he  was  admirably  adapted  for  that 
dangerous  but  important  branch  of  the  service.  Combining,  in  happy 
harmony,  so  many  virtues,  it  is  not  surprising  that  he  won  the  affec 
tions  of  his  associates,  and  the  entire  confidence  of  his  commander, 
who  was  so  assured  of  his  fitness  that  he  granted  him  a  roving 
commission,  with  full  power  to  select  from  the  brigade  such  men  and 
as  many  as  he  should  think  proper.  But  of  these  he  never,  or  sel 
dom,  selected  more  than  six  or  eight,  preferring,  by  this  small  band, 
celerity  and  secrecy.  He  was  almost  universally  successful,  often 
penetrating  the  enemy's  camp,  or  cutting  off  his  rear  or  advanced 
guard,  and  then  returning  with  his  prisoners,  or  his  information, 
according  to  the  circumstances  of  the  case.  So  rapid  were  his  move 
ments,  that  he  has  been  known  to  disappear  from  the  camp  and 
return  again  with  his  prisoners,  ere  his  absence  was  noticed  by  the 
commandant.  He  would  often  enter  the  enemy's  camp  as  a  deserter, 
and  complaining  of  the  ill  usage  he  had  received  from  his  country 
men,  so  gain  upon  their  confidence,  that  he  would  completely  disarm 
153 


SERGEANT    JASPER.  2.") 

them  of  his  real  intentions,  and  after  satisfying  himself  of  their 
strength,  position,  intentions,  and  the  like,  would  return  and  report 
his  knowledge  to  the  commander.  Oil  one  of  these  occasions,  he 
remained  in  the  enemy's  camp  eight  days,  and  then  returned,  after 
first  informing  himself  of  every  thing  necessary  that  could  be  of  any 
use  to  his  General.  This  game,  however,  could  be  played  but  once. 
Never  at  a  loss  how  to  proceed,  he,  with  his  usual  promptness, 
devised  other  ways  and  means  to  gain  his  information. 

It  was  while  he  was  in  the  employment  of  one  of  these  roving 
expeditions,  that  he  prepared  to  again  enter  the  camp  of  the  British 
at  Ebenezer.  It  so  happened  that  he  had  a  brother  at  this  post,  who 
was  in  the  employ  of  the  enemy — a  melancholy  instance  among  many 
other  cases  of  a  like  nature,  which  occurred  during  the  war — who 
was  a  Tory,  and  who  held  the  same  rank  in  the  British  army  that  he 
possessed  in  the  American.  The  brothers  were  equally  dear  to  each 
other,  though  opposite  in  political  sentiment. 

William  Jasper  loved  his  brother  in  the  natural  warmth  of  his 
generous  heart,  and  wished  to  see  him.  He  also  wished  to  inform 
himself  of  the  enemy's  movements.  With  this  double  object  in  his 
mind,  he  therefore  prepared  for  his  departure,  taking  with  him  only 
one  companion,  a  brave  37mmg  fellow,  like  himself,  who  had  shared 
with  him  many  a  "  happy  hunt,"  as  he  termed  it,  to  the  united  honor 
of  both.  This  young  officer's  name  was  Newton,  holding  the  same 
rank  in  the  service  as  Jasper,  namely,  a  Sergeant. 

It  was  about  sunset  when  the  two  young  officers  left  the  camp  for 
their  destination.  Passing  the  American  lines,  they  proceeded  on 
rapidly  toward  the  British  camp,  which  lay  some  few  miles  from 
Abercorn.  Taking  the  direct  road  to  the  latter  place,  they  traveled 
rapidly  until  they  arrived  in  sight  of  the  encamped  British  force,  at 
Abercorn. 

"  We  must  now  make  a  detour"  said  Jasper,  halting,  "  in  order  to 
avoid  the  British  at  this  place,  and  not  be  discovered.  Our  route 
lies  to  the  south-east  a  little,  and  to  shorten  the  journey,  we  must 
pass  yonder  forest,  the  southern  side  of  which  borders  upon  a  small 
lake  or  pond,  a  very  convenient  place  for  a  respite  after  the  toils  and 
fatigues  of  a  whole  clay's  travel.  I  have  often  met  straggling  parties 
of  Tories  or  British  in  this  forest,  or  around  the  margin  of  the  lake, 

153 


20  TALES  AND  TRADITIOHS. 

and  it  is  necessary,  therefore,  to  proceed  carefully  while  passing  if. 
Just  beyond  the  lake  is  a  small  hill,  from  the  summit  of  which  the 
town  of  Ebenezer  can  be  seen  some  three  or  four  miles  distant. 
After  we  pass  this  forest  and  hill,  we  must  observe  the  utmost  silence 
and  scrutiny,  for  we  are  then  in  the  immediate  vicinity  of  and 
between  the  two  British  posts,  which  will  necessarily  place  us  in  a 
double  danger  from  the  meeting  of  scouts  or  Tories  from  either  or 
both  camps." 

With  these  directions  the  two  now  resumed  their  journey,  taking 
a  small  path  leading  to  the  left,  and  directly  in  line  of  the  forest. 
A  few  minutes  of  brisk  walking  brought  them  to  the  outskirts  of 
the  forest,  which  was  an  extensive  piece  of  woodland,  stretching  with 
occasional  intervals  far  to  the  south-east,  interrupted  by  a  few 
broken  and  uneven  ranges  of  hills,  somewhat  elevated,  but  scarcely 
sufficiently  so  to  be  called  mountains.  On  the  left  of  our  travelers, 
the  forest  broke  off  abruptly,  a  short  distance  above  them,  while  its 
width  was  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile.  It  was  quite  dark  ere  they 
reached  the  woods,  which  seemed  to  them  almost  impenetrable, 
having  nothing  but  the  faint  glimmering  of  the  stars  to  guide  them. 
The  day  had  been  very  clear,  however,  which  left  the  atmosphere 
perfectly  free,  with  nothing  to  interrupt  the  twinklings  of  the  little 
suns  in  the  distant  spheres. 

As  they  entered  the  forest,  they  turned  to  the  right,  and  struck 
into  the  main  road  leading  from  Abercorn.  They  had  proceeded 
some  fifty  yards,  when  Jasper's  accustomed  ear  caught  the  sound  of 
horses'  hoofs  upon  the  dry  soil,  moving  somewhat  rapidly  toward 
them.  Motioning  his  comrade  to  halt,  he  remained  an  instant 
listening  to  the  sound,  and  then  darted  off  into  the  thicket  on  his 
left,  quickly  followed  by  Newton.  Scarcely  were  they  concealed 
behind  a  thick  cluster  of  small  cedars,  ere  the  horsemen,  for  such 
they  proved  to-  be,  came  up.  Jasper  instantly  recognized  them  as  a 
party  of  British  horse,  bound  on  some  scouting  expedition.  Halting 
directly  opposite  to  our  travelers,  two  of  them,  who  appeared  to  be 
the  leaders  of  the  squad,  dismounted  and  withdrew  a  short  distance. 
The  road,  at  this  place,  was  considerably  wider  than  the  usual  width, 
which  caused  a  small  opening  in  the  wood,  and  which  seemed  a  very 
convenient  situation  for  a  halt.  As  the  officers  retired,  they  fortu- 
154 


SERGEANT   JASPER.  27 

nately  came  directly  abreast  of  the  cedars,  behind  which  Jasper  and 
his  comrade  were  ensconced,  so  that  their  conversation  could  easily 
be  distinguished  by  both  of  the  latter. 

"  Our  prisoners  are  no  doubt  safely  within  the  lines  of  Ebenezer, 
ere  this,"  began  the  first,  "  unless  rescued  by  some  of  their  rebel 
brethren,  which  I  think  can  hardly  be  the  case,  as  we  were  close  to 
the  town  when  we  left  them." 

"  No  fear  of  that,  Lieutenant,"  replied  the  second,  "  for  the  rebel 
dogs  would  not  dare  to  be  so  audacious." 

"  I  am  not  so  sure  *of  that,"  exclaimed  the  other,  doubtingly ; 
"  that  Jasper  has  the  audacity  of  Satan  himself,  and  if  he  should  be 
in  the  neighborhood,  I  should  almost  fear  for  our  prisoners.  How 
ever,  if  they  are  once  within  the  lines,  no  power  will  save  them,  as 
I  am  assured  by  the  commandant  that  they  will  be  sent  to  Savannah 
for  trial  and  execution,  which  will  have  the  effect  of  intimidating, 
at  least,  these  rebel  curs  from  further  marauding  expeditions ;"  and 
he  chuckled  with  an  air  of  self-satisfaction  at  the  thought  of  their 
petty  victory. 

J'  Well,  be  that  as  it  may,  Lieutenant,"  replied  his  comrade,  "  it  is 
another  letter  in  our  catalogue  of  victories,  which  serves  to  make  us 
more  popular  with  the  commandant.  In  either  case,  we  get  our 
thanks,  you  know,  and  that  is  something  toward  elevating  us  toward 
our  desired  height." 

"  True,"  rejoined  the  Lieutenant.  "But  let  us  not  waste  more 
time  and  words  than  is  necessary.  Let  me  see,"  he  added,  thought 
fully,  "  we  will  pursue  our  course  north  to  Abercorn,  and  deliver 
our  message  to  the  commander,  and  then  shape  our  proceedings  as 
shall  seem  most  fit." 

With  these  words,  the  two  officers  mounted  their  horses,  and  were 
soon  lost  to  view,  with  their  party,  on  the  road  to  the  northern 
station. 

Jasper  and  his  friend  now  emerged  from  their  place  of  conceal 
ment,  and  taking  the  road  opposite  to  the  direction  of  the  royalists, 
resumed  their  journey. 

"  So,  so,"  exclaimed  Jasper,  as  they  hurried  along,  "  they  have 
taken  some  'rebel  curs'  prisoners,  have  they?  And  they  will  no 
doubt  give  them  the  benefit  of  '  short  shrift  and  sudden  cord,'  if  they 

155 


TALES    AND    TRADITIONS. 

act  in  consonance  with  their  general  character.  But  we  must 
endeavor  to  rescue  them,  if  their  guard  is  not  too  strong  for  us, 
which  I  hardly  think  will  he  the  case,  as  they  will  have  no  fear  of 
such  a  thing  in  the  immediate  vicinity  of  their  own  lines." 

"  It  is  a  hazardous  undertaking,  Jasper,"  replied  Newton,  "  and 
must  be  attended  with  a  great  deal  of  risk,  as,  you  know,  the  enemy 
occupy  every  point  of  note  between  this  and  Savannah  ;  and  besides, 
there  is  scarcely  an  hour  of  the  day  that  some  of  their  scouting- 
parties  do  not  prowl  between  the  posts." 

"  So  much  the  more  glory  if  we  succeed,"  said  the  noble  Jasper ; 
"  and  if  we  fail,  why  then  we  share  their  fate.  And  we  could  not 
sacrifice  ourselves  in  a  nobler  cause.  There  is  another  reason  why 
we  should  endeavor  to  rescue  them,  and  that  is,  they  are  prisoners, 
and  will,  no  doubt,  be  driven  to  their  execution  within  the  walls  of 
Savannah  without  even  the  right  of  a  trial ;  for  the  British  are 
notorious  for  their  bloody  propensities,  and  seek  to  vent  their  hate 
upon  poor  captives  in  a  cruel  and  shameful  manner." 

"  I  am  certainly  of  your  opinion,"  said  Newton,  "  still  we  must 
not  be  impetuous.  Our  country  needs  all  the  help  she  can  command, 
and  she  does  not  require  us  to  sacrifice  our  lives  in  endeavoring  to 
accomplish  impossibilities.  However,  we  shall  soon  see." 

The  officers  had  now  nearly  reached  the  limits  of  the  forest,  and 
taking  the  right  of  two  roads  which  here  joined,  they  were  presently 
in  the  open  country.  Nothing  of  importance  occurred  to  them  during 
the  rest  of  the  journey,  which  was  accomplished  in  safety  to  the 
British  lines.  Arriving  at  the  advanced  guard,  and  having  left  New 
ton  concealed  until  his  return,  Jasper  promptly  gave  the  password,  and 
soon  found  himself  within  the  enemy's  camp.  Passing  on  hastily, 
he  entered  his  brother's  quarters,  whom  he  found  just  about  issuing 
forth  to  detail  a  file  of  men  for  special  duty  to  guard  the  prisoners 
recently  captured,  having  been  sent  into  Ebenezer  on  their  way  to 
Savannah  for  trial. 

These  prisoners  had  taken  up  arms  against  their  countrymen  at 
the  beginning  of  the  contest ;  but  as  the  British  had  been  in  a 
measure  overthrown,  they  again  joined  the  ranks  of  the  patriots,  and 
on  being  taken,  were  to  be  executed.  This  was  only  one  instance 
of  hundreds  of  others  who  had  acted  similarly. 
156 


SERGEANT    JASPER.  29 

The  brothers  Jasper  were  mutually  rejoiced  to  see  each  other ; 
but  the  Tory  shook  his  head  doubtfully  as  he  beheld  his  brother 
again  within  the  British  camp,  after  having  so  shrewdly  deceived 
them  on  a  former  occasion.  But  William  Jasper  quickly  reassured 
his  mind  on  this  point,  and  bade  him  be  under  no  uneasiness. 

Having  ascertained  from  his  brother  the  number  of  men  who 
were  to  conduct  the  prisoners  to  Savannah,  at  what  time  they 
intended  to  leave,  aud  also  making  such  other  inquiries  as  he  deemed 
proper,  Jasper  bade  him  adieu,  and  soon  sought  his  comrade,  New 
ton,  whom  he  found  anxiously  waiting  his  return. 

"  I  have  received  information  from  my  brother,"  he  said,  "  that 
these  prisoners  leave  to-morrow  morning  at  sunrise  for  Savannah, 
under  a  guard  of  eight  men,  and  accompanied  by  a  Sergeant  and  a 
Corporal.  The  odds  is  not  so  very  great  after  all ;  and  I  think  by  a 
little  stratagem  and  boldness  we  can  succeed  in  rescuing  them.  At 
all  events,  let  us  make  the  trial." 

But  Jasper's  friend  was  not  so  sure  of  success.  Ten  to  two,  and 
those  two  unarmed,  seemed  to  him  too  great  odds  to  contend  with, 
as  having  any  chance  of  succeeding.  But  when  Jasper  related  to 
him  that  one  of  these  prisoners  was  a  woman  who  had  a  young 
child,  and  that  she  was  the  wife  of  one  of  the  captured  men,  his 
heart  was  touched  at  the  melancholy  spectacle,  and  he  instantly 
coincided  with  his  friend  that  they  should  attempt  their  rescue.  This 
being  their  conclusion,  they  conferred  as  to  the  best  means  of  accom 
plishing  the  desired  object.  This  was  soon  decided  upon.  They 
determined  to  linger  around  the  fortifications  until  they  should  see 
the  prisoners,  with  their  guard,  set  out  for  the  place  of  destination, 
and  then  follow  their  footsteps  until  a  convenient  opportunity  offered 
to  put  into  force  the  execution  of  their  design.  Accordingly,  select 
ing  a  secure  concealment  near  the  lines  to  await  the  approach  of 
dawn,  they  threw  themselves  upon  the  ground,  and  being  somewhat 
fatigued,  soon  fell  asleep.  The  day  was  just  beginning  to  emerge 
ere  Jasper  awoke,  so  sound  had  been  his  rest,  aud  springing  up,  he 
aroused  his  friend. 

All  was  activity  in  the  British  camp.  Men  were  hurrying  to  and 
fro,  preparing  for  the  duties  of  the  day.  In  fact,  the  whole  camp 
seemed  to  be  astir  to  Jasper  and  his  comrade,  as  they  issued 

157 


30  TALES    AND    TRADITIONS. 

from  their  place  of  concealment  to  watch  the  movements  of  the 
enemy. 

They  had  not  proceeded  far  before  their  attention  was  arrested  by 
a  file  of  soldiers  marching  out  into  the  iuclosure  and  then  coming 
to  a  halt,  as  though  waiting  further  orders.  Presently  a  body  of 
men,  with  their  arms  pinioned,  was  marched  directly  to  their  front. 
Dividing  their  force,  the  prisoners  were  placed  in  the  center,  with  a 
portion  of  their  guard  in  front  and  rear.  Every  thing  being  now  in 
readiness,  the  whole  party  started  off  toward  their  destined  point, 
leaving  the  village  at  the  southern  extremity. 

Jasper  and  his  companion  now  made  a  circuit  of  the  village,  so 
as  not  to  be  discovered,  and  in  order  to  place  themselves  on  the 
track  of  the  troop.  Having  secured  a  suitable  distance  from  the 
guard,  they  followed  them  silently,  watching  their  opportunity  when 
to  make  the  endeavor.  In  this  way  they  continued  to  track  their 
friends  and  their  guards  for  some  time,  without  any  prospect  of 
accomplishing  their  design,  until  they  were  within  two  miles  of 
Savannah.  They  had  become  nearly  discouraged,  when  Jasper 
suddenly  recollected  that  just  ahead  of  them  there  was  a  noted  spring, 
at  which  place  they  conjectured  the  guard  would  halt,  with  their 
prisoners,  to  refresh  themselves.  The  spring  was  known  to  travelers, 
who,  when  journeying  that  way,  seldom  or  never  passed  it  without 
tasting  its  crystalline  waters.  Jasper  and  Newton  were  right  in 
their  conjectures.  Arriving  opposite  the  spring,  the  guard  halted 
their  prisoners  in  the  road  under  the  shade  of  a  large  oak-tree, 
\vhich  stood  just  on  the  margin  of  the  road,  and  between  that  and 
the  spring.  Our  heroes,  however,  had  reached  the  spring  before  the 
British,  having  taken  an  obscure  path  with  which  they  were  well 
acquainted,  and  placing  themselves  in  ambush,  awaited  the  arrival 
of  the  enemy. 

The  day  was  warm,  and  as  the  guard  halted,  the  prisoners,  glad 
to  rest  their  wearied  limbs  after  so  long  a  march,  threw  themselves 
upon  the  earth  under  the  shade  of  the  tree,  little  dreaming  of  the 
succor  so  near  at  hand.  Very  soon  after,  they  were  conducted  to 
the  spring  by  the  Corporal  with  four  men.  The  remainder  of  the 
guard  were  under  the  charge  of  the  Sergeant,  who  halted  them  on 
the  road  a  short  distance  from  the  spring,  and  having  ordered  them 
158 


SERGEANT   JASPER.  31 

1.o  stack  their  arms,  brought  up  the  rear.  After  having  sufficiently 
quenched  their  thirst,  the  whole  party  returned,  leaving  two  men  on 
guard  of  the  arms  which  were  all  stacked  near  the  spring.  These 
two  men  kept  guard  but  indifferently.  They  had  nothing  to  fear 
within  so  short  a  distance  of  the  fortress  at  Savannah,  conscious  of 
being  surrounded  by  none  of  their  foes,  and  inclosed  within  the  ver}' 
stronghold  of  the  British  lines.  It  is  not  surprising  that  they  should 
not  maintain  a  very  strict  watch  under  such  circumstances. 

The  propitious  moment  for  the  daring  and  hazardous  attempt  was 
drawing  near,  which  was  eagerly  watched  by  Jasper  and  his  com 
rade  in  their  adjoining  ambush. 

The  localities  of  the  place,  the  position  of  the  guard,  the  nearness 
of  the  ambush — in  short,  every  thing  seemed  most  appropriate  and 
advantageous. 

The  spring,  as  we  have  said,  was  situated  on  the  left,  within 
a  few  feet  of  the  road,  between  which  and  the  water  stood  the 
arms  of  the  guard  in  charge  of  the  two  men,  who  were  lazily  em 
ployed  in  watching  the  bubblings  of  the  fountain,  and  then  tracing 
its  clear  waters  as  they  flowed  silently  off  in  a  small  rivulet  in  a 
winding  direction,  until  lost  in  the  thick  foliage  a  few  rods  below. 
Beyond,  and  in  full  view,  were  the  walls  and  fortifications  of  Savan 
nah,  almost  within  hailing  distance  of  the  spot  which  our  heroes 
have  rendered  immortal  by  their  daring  achievement. 

The  remaining  guard  stood  in  a  group  on  the  opposite  side  of 
the  road,  conversing  freely  and  gayly,  and  utterly  unconscious  of 
the  presence  of  an  enemy,  while  the  prisoners  were  reclining  under 
the  stately  oak,  a  little  on  the  left  of  the  British. 

The  two  soldiers  were  conversing  cheerfully,  having  seated  them 
selves  by  the  side  of  the  spring,  little  dreaming  that  this  colloquy 
was  destined  to  be  their  last. 

Presently,  the  two  arose,  and  leaning  their  muskets  against  a 
small  tree,  close  to  where  Jasper  and  his  comrade  lay  concealed, 
they  proceeded  to  fill  their  canteens  with  the  refreshing  draught  of 
the  spring. 

At  this  moment  Jasper  gave  the  signal.  Springing  out  from  their 
ambush,  he  and  his  companion  seized  the  loaded  weapons,  and 
instantly  leveling  them,  shot  the  two  soldiers  dead  upon  the  ground. 


33  TALES    AND    TRADITIONS. 

Then  rushing  upon  the  guard,  they  clubbed  theii  muskets,  and  as 
sailing  two  of  the  remaining  soldiers,  who  were  in  advance  of  tho 
rest,  they  felled  them  to  the  earth,  and  before  the  astonished  guard 
could  recover  from  their  surprise,  they  rushed  to  the  stack  of  arms, 
and  with  presented  weapons,  instantly  demanded  the  surrender  of 
the  whole  troop.  The  British  officers  seeing  their  perilous  situation, 
and  noticing  the  determined  looks  of  Jasper  and  Newton,  and  bein.j; 
withal  deprived  of  their  arms,  complied  with  their  demand,  and 
yielded  themselves  and  their  men  as  prisoners  of  war.  To  set  free 
the  captives  was  but  the  work  of  an  instant,  and  placing  the  muskets 
of  the  captured  British  into  their  hands,  Jasper  ordered  the  irons  to 
be  placed  upon  the  new  prisoners  ;  and  then  hurrying  away  from 
this  spot,  which  they  have  immortalized  with  a  name  not  soon  to  be 
forgotten,  they  crossed  the  Savannah  with  both  friends  and  foes,  and 
were  soon  rapidly  marching  toward  the  American  camp. 

Thus  was  this  noble  act  achieved,  of  which  history  furnishes  but 
few  parallels  ;  and  which  strikingly  illustrates  the  coolness,  determi 
nation  and  bravery,  which  ever  characterized  the  noble-hearted 
Jasper.  But,  unforturrately  for  his  country,  she  was  soon  destined 
to  lose  his  valuable  services,  when,  in  the  very  hey-day  of  his  youth, 
he  sealed  his  patriotism  with  his  heart's  blood  before  the  walls  of 
Savannah. 


ELERSOFS  TWENTY-FIVE  MILE  RACE. 

AMONG  the  members  of  that  celebrated  rifle  corps,  commanded 
by  Daniel  Morgan,  to  which  we  already  have  referred,  was  a  man  by 
the  name  of  Elerson,  who,  in  deeds  of  daring  and  intrepidity,  was 
almost  a  mulch  for  Timothy  Murphy,  whose  frequent  companion  lie 
was  when  on  an  expedition  against  their  mutual  enemies,  the  Tories, 
red-coats,  and  Indians.  Quick  of  perception,  rapid  in  his  conclu 
sions  and  his  actions,  light  of  foot,  and  brave  as  a  lion,  he  was  an 
enemy  whom  the  Indians  feared,  and  a  friend  whom  all  reckoned  as 
second  only  to  the  renowned  Murphv  himself.  The  corps  to  which 
160 


ELEIISON'S  TWENTY-FIVE  MUE  RACE.  35 

these  celebrated  marksmen  belonged  was  attached  to  the  expedition 
of  Generals  Clinton  and  Sullivan  against  the  Six  Nations  in  1779. 
Elerson  was  with  Clinton  when  that  officer  halted  at  Otsego  Lake, 
to  await  the  coming  up  of  his  superior,  from  the  direction  of  Wyo 
ming.  While  the  army  lay  at  this  place,  Elerson  rambled  off  from 
the  main  body,  in  search  of  adventure,  and  pulse  for  the  dinner  of 
the  mess  to  which  he  belonged.  Regardless  of  danger,  he  wandered 
about  until  he  had  procured  a  quantity  of  the  weed,  when  he  pre 
pared  to  return  to  camp.  It  seems  that  he  had  been  discovered  and 
tracked  by  a  party  of  Indians,  who  determined  upon  his  capture. 
As  he  was  adjusting  his  burden,  he  heard  a  rustling  of  the  leaves 
near  him.  Looking  in  the  direction  indicated,  he  discovered  a  band 
of  six  or  eight  Indians,  stationed  between  him  and  the  camp,  so  as 
to  cut  off  his  retreat  in  that  direction,  and  who  were  in  the  act  of 
springing  upon  him.  Conscious  of  their  object— for  he  might  have 
been  shot  down  with  ease — he  determined  to  foil  them  if  in  his 
power,  knowing  full  well  the  fate  of  a  prisoner  in  their  hands. 
Seizing  his  rifle,  he  dropped  his  bundle,  and  fled  through  the  only 
avenue  left  open  for  his  escape,  followed  by  the  whole  pack,  hooting 
and  yelling  at  his  heels.  As  he  started  to  run,  half  a  dozen  toma 
hawks  were  hurled  at  him,  and  came  whizzing  and  flying  through 
the  air.  Fortunately  but  one  reached  its  object,  and  that  nearly  cut 
the  middle  finger  from  his  left  hand.  With  the  agility  of  the  hunted 
stag,  Elerson  bounded  over  an  old  brushwood  fence  which  stood  in 
his  path,  and  darted  into  the  shades  of  the  forest,  followed  by  his 
no  less  rapid  pursuers.  Aware  that  the  course  he  had  taken  was 
away  from  the  camp — so  also  were  his  enemies — he  prepared  himself 
for  a  mighty  effort,  trusting  that  an  opportunity  would  offer  to 
"  double"  and  find  his  way  back.  Vain  hope !  The  Indians,  aware 
that  such  would  naturally  be  his  aim,  took  care  to  prevent  it  by 
spreading  themselves  somewhat  in  the  form  of  a  crescent  ;  but,  in 
so  doing,  they  nearly  lost  sight  of  their  prey.  Fearful  that  he  might 
escape,  they  discharged  their  rifles— hoping  to  wound  or  kill  him — 
but  with  no  effect.  The  brave  fellow  tried  every  nerve  to  outstrip, 
and  every  stratagem  and  device  to  mislead  his  savage  pursuers ;  but 
they  were  too  cunning  to  be  deceived,  and*  kept  on  his  track  with 
the  ardor  of  blood-hounds.  Four  long  hours  the  chase  continued 

163 


88  TALES    AND    TRADITIONS. 

thus,  until  overtasked  nature  threatened  to  give  way,  and  yield  him 
to  the  tomahawk  and  seal  ping-knives  of  his  enemies.  Like  some 
powerful  engine,  his  heart  was  forcing  the  blood  through  his  dis 
tended  and  throbbing  veins,  which  were  swollen  to  bursting  with  the 
mighty  efforts  of  the  chase.  His  breath  came  short  and  rapid,  be 
tokening  a  speedy  termination  of  the  race,  unless  a  breathing  spell 
was  afforded  him.  An  opportunity  at  last  was  offered,  when,  hav 
ing,  as  he  thought,  outstripped  his  pursuers  for  a  moment,  he  halted 
in  a  little  lonely  dell  to  recover  his  waning  strength.  His  hope  was 
destined  to  disappointment,  however,  for  the  circle  closed  in  upon 
him,  and  the  bust  of  an  Indian  presented  itself  at  a  slight  opening 
in  front.  He  raised  his  rifle  to  fire,  but  at  that  moment  a  shot  from 
his  rear  admonished  him  that  danger  was  all  around  ;  another  took 
effect  in  his  side,  and  warned  him  of  the  danger  of  delay.  The  In 
dian  in  front  had  disappeared,  and  he  hastened  forward,  with  the  love 
of  life  still  strong  in  his  breast.  The  wound  in  his  side  bled  freely, 
although  only  a  flesh-wound,  and  therefore  not  dangerous  nor  painful. 
It  served,  however,  to  track  him  by,  and,  conscious  of  the  fact,  he 
managed  to  tear  a  strip  from  his  hunting-shirt  and  staunch  the  blood. 
On,  on  went  pursuer  and  pursued— over  hill  and  dale,  brook,  stream 
let  and  running  stream — through  brier  and  bramble,  through  field 
and  wood — until  the  parched  and  burning  tongue  of  the  fugitive 
protruded  from  his  mouth  swelled  to  such  distention  as  almost  to 
stop  his  breathing.  Exhausted  nature  could  do  no  more  ;  he  threw 
himself  prostrate  on  the  bank  of  a  tiny  brook,  resolved  to  yield  the 
contest  for  the  sake  of  a  hearty  draught  of  its  clear,  sparkling 
waters.  He  bathed  his  brow  in  the  cool  element,  and  drank  deeply 
of  its  reviving  virtues.  Raising  his  head,  he  discovered  the  fore 
most  of  the  now  scattered  and  equally  exhausted  enemy,  crossing 
the  brow  of  a  ridge  over  which  he  had  just  passed.  The  instinct 
of  preservation  was  awakened  afresh  in  his  bosom  at  the  sight ;  he 
started  to  his  feet  and  raised  his  rifle,  but  failing  strength  would  not 
allow  of  a  certain  aim,  and  an  empty  weapon  would  insure  his  death. 
Another  moment,  and  he  would  be  at  the  mercy  of  his  enemy,  with 
out  hope  or  chance  of  life.  Again  he  raised  his  trusty  rifle,  and, 
steadying  its  barrel  against  a  sapling,  he  secured  his  aim,  fired,  and 
the  Indian  fell  headlong  in  death.  Before  the  echoes  of  the  report 
164 


WILLIAM    KENXAN.  37 

had  died  away  in  the  neighboring  hills,  he  beheld  the  remainder  of 
the  band  of  eager,  hungry  pursuers  coming  over  the  ridge ;  he  then 
felt  that  his  minutes  indeed  were  numbered.  Hidden  partially  by 
the  tree  behind  which  he  stood,  they  did  not  discover  him,  how 
ever  ;  and  while  they  paused  over  the  body  of  their  fallen  comrade, 
he  made  another  attempt  to  fly.  He  staggered  forward — fell — • 
and,  exerting  his  failing  powers  to  the  utmost,  he  managed  to  reach 
a  thicket  of  young  trees,  overgrown  with  wild  vines,  into  which  he 
threw  himself  with  the  energy  of  desperation.  Fortune  favored 
him  ;  he  discovered  the  rotten  trunk  of  a  fallen  tree,  whose  hollow 
butt,  hidden  and  screened  by  the  deep  shadow  of  the  surrounding 
foliage,  offered  an  asylum  from  the  impending  death  which  seemed 
so  near.  The  approaching  steps  of  the  savages  quickened  his  move 
ments,  as  he  crawled  head  first  into  the  recess,  which  was  barely 
large  enough  to  admit  his  person.  Here  he  lay  within,  hearing  of 
the  efforts  made  to  discover  his  hiding-place,  until  they  died  away  in 
the  distance.  Conscious,  however,  that  the  Indians  would  search 
long  and  anxiously  for  him,  he  lay  in  this  situation  for  two  days  and 
nights.  When  he  ventured  out  he  knew  not  which  way  to  turn,  but 
striking  off  at  random,  he  soon  emerged  upon  a  clearing  near  Cob- 
bleskill — a  distance  of  twenty-five  miles  from  his  place  of  starting. 
The  brave  fellow  had  earned  his  liberty ;  and  the  Indians  never 
ceased  to  recur  to  the  race,  with  grunts  of  approbation  at  the  white 
man's  power  of  endurance. 

Another  race  for  life,  not  so  lengthy,  but  equally  exciting  while  it 
lasted,  is  related  in  the  historical  records  of  Kentucky — that  State 
whose  infancy  was  "  baptized  in  blood."  William  Kennan,  a 
brother  spirit  of  Kenton,  Hunt,  and  Boone,  a  ranger  renowned  for 
strength  and  courage,  had  joined  the  expedition  of  St.  Clair  against 
the  Indians.  In  the  course  of  the  march  from  Fort  Washington  he 
had  repeated  opportunities  of  testing  his  surprising  powers,  and  was 
admitted  to  be  the  swiftest  runner  of  the  light  corps.  This  expedi 
tion  of  St.  Clair  was  organized  after  the  disastrous  defeat  of  Har- 
mar  by  the  Indians,  in  1779.  Washington,  who  was  at  this  time 
President,  determined  to  employ  a  force  sufficient  to  crush  out  the 
savages.  This  force  was  to  have  been  two  thousand  regular  troops, 
composed  of  cavalry,  infantry  and  artillery,  and  a  large  number  of 

165 


TALES    AND    TRADITIONS. 

militia  which  were  ordered  to  move  from  the  several  States  in  which 
they  had  been  enlisted,  toward  Fort  Washington,  now  Cincinnati, 
where  the  men  rendezvoused  in  September.  The  object  of  the  cam 
paign  was  to  establish  a  line  of  posts,  stretching  from  the  Ohio  to 
the  Maumee,  to  build  a  strong  post  on  the  latter  river,  and  by  leav 
ing  in  it  a  garrison  of  a  thousand  men,  to  enable  the  commander  of 
the  fort  to  send  out  detachments  to  keep  the  Indians  in  awe.  But 
there  was  difficulty  about  organizing  the  array,  St.  Glair  being  very 
unpopular  in  Kentucky ;  the  season  was  far  advanced  before  he  took 
the  field,  and  when  he  did,  he  had  only  about  two  thousand  men  all 
told,  and  from  these,  desertions  were  continually  taking  place.  The 
Kentucky  levies  were  reckless  and  ungovernable,  the  conscripts  from 
the  other  States  were  dissatisfied,  and  to  make  matters  worse,  the 
mountain  leader,  a  Chickasaw  chief,  whose  knowledge  of  Indian 
tactics  would  have  been  invaluable,  losing  faith  in  the  success  of  the 
whites,  abandoned  the  enterprise  with  his  band  of  warriors. 

St.  Clair,  however,  continued  his  march ;  and  on  the  evening  of 
the  third  of  November,  halted  on  one  of  the  tributaries  of  the  Wa- 
bash.  A  few  Indians  were  seen,  who  fled  with  precipitation.  The 
troops  encamped  ;  the  regulars  and  levies  in  two  lines,  covered  by 
the  stream ;  the  militia  on  the  opposite  shore,  and  about  a  quarter 
of  a  mile  in  advance.  Still  further  in  advance  was  posted  Captain 
Hough  with  a  company  of  regulars.  His  orders  were  to  intercept 
small  parties  of  the  enemy,  should  they  venture  to  approach  the 
camp,  and  to  give  intelligence  of  any  occurrences  which  might 
transpire. 

Colonel  Oldham,  who  commanded  the  Kentucky  levies,  such  as 
had  not  deserted,  was  cautioned  to  remain  on  the  alert  during  the 
night,  and  to  send  out  patrols  of  twenty-five  or  thirty  men  each,  in 
different  directions,  before  daylight,  to  scour  the  adjoining  woods. 

Kennan  was  with  one  of  these  patrols.  Just  as  day  was  dawn 
ing  he  perceived  about  thirty  Indians  within  one  hundred  yards  of 
the  guard  fire,  cautiously  approaching  the  spot  where  he,  with  about 
twenty  other  rangers,  stood,  the  rest  of  his  company  being  consid 
erably  in  the  rear.  Supposing  it  to  be  a  mere  scouting  party,  not 
superior  in  numbers  to  the  rangers,  he  sprung  forward  a  few  paces 
to  shelter  himself  in  a  spot  of  tall  grass,  where,  after  firing  with 
1G6 


WILLIAM    KENNAN.  39 

quick  aim  upon  the  foremost  savage,  he  fell  flat  upon  his  face,  rap 
idly  reloading  his  gun,  not  doubting  but  what  his  companions  would 
maintain  their  position. 

However,  as  the  battle  afterward  proved,  this,  instead  of  being  a 
scouting-party  of  savages,  was  the  front  rank  of  their  whole  body, 
who  had  chosen  their  favorite  hour  of  daybreak  for  a  fierce  assault 
upon  the  whites,  and  who  now  marched  forward  in  such  overwhelm 
ing  masses,  that  the  rangers  were  compelled  to  fly,  leaving  Kennan 
in  total  ignorance  of  his  danger.  Fortunately,  the  Captain  of  his 
company,  observing  him  throw  himself  in  the  grass,  suddenly  ex 
claimed  : 

"  Eun,  Kennan  !  or  you  are  a  dead  man  !" 

Instantly  springing  to  his  feet,  he  beheld  the  Indians  within  ten 
feet  of  him,  while  his  company  was  more  than  a  hundred  yards  in 
front.  He  had  no  time  for  thought ;  but  the  instinct  of  self-preser 
vation  prompted  him  to  dart  away,  while  the  yells  of  his  pursuers 
seemed  absolutely  close  in  his  ears.  He  fancied  he  could  feel  their 
hot  breath.  At  first,  he  pressed  straight  toward  the  usual  fording- 
place  in  the  creek,  which  was  between  the  savages  and  the  main 
army.  Ten  feet  behind  him !  ay,  they  were  before,  and  all  about 
him  !  Several  savages  had  passed  him,  as  he  lay  in  the  grass,  with 
out  discovering  him ;  and  these  now  turned,  heading  him  off  from 
the  ford.  ' 

There  was  but  one  way  possible.for  him  to  reach  the  camp,  which 
was  to  dart  aside,  between  his  pursuers,  and  make  a  long  circuijt. 
He  had  not  succeeded  in  reloading  his  rifle ;  with  a  pang  of  regret,  he 
threw  it  down,  for  it  encumbered  him,  in  the  exertions  he  was  mak 
ing,  and  putting  every  nerve  to  its  utmost  strain,  he  bounded  aside 
and  onward.  Running  like  a  deer,  he  soon  had  the  relief  of  out 
stripping  all  his  pursuers  but  one,  a  young  chief,  perhaps  Messhawa, 
who  displayed  a  swiftness  and  perseverance  equal  to  his  own. 

Here  was  a  race  worth  seeing  1  With  long,  panther-like  bounds, 
the  agile  Indian  chased  the  fugitive,  who  scarcely  knew  whether  he 
fled  on  air  or  earth.  The  distance  between  them  on  the  start  was 
about  eighteen  feet ;  the  herculean  efforts  of  Kennan  could  not  make 
it  one  inch  more,  nor  the  equally  powerful  leaps  of  the  savage  make 
it  one  inch  less.  Kennan  was  at  a  great  disadvantage.  He  had  to 

167 


40  TALES    AND    TRADITIONS. 

watch  the  pending  blow  of  his  adversary,  whose  tomahawk  was 
poised  in  the  air,  ready  for  the  first  favorable  opportunity  to  be  dis 
charged  at  him.  This  gave  him  small  chance  to  pick  his  footsteps 
with  prudence. 

Growing  tired  of  this  contest  of  skill,  in  which  neither  gained, 
fie  ranger,  seeing  that  no  other  Indian  was  near  enough  to  interfere, 
resolved  to  end  the  matter  by  a  hand-to-hand  conflict.  Feeling  in 
his  belt  for  his  knife,  he  found  that  it  was  gone. 

"  I'm  tellin'  the  straight  out-and-out  truth,  my  friends,"  Kennan 
used  to  remark,  when  he  related  this  adventure,  "  when  I  felt  for 
sartin  that  knife  was  lost,  my  lia'r  just  lifted  my  cap  off  my  head- 
it  stood  straight  up— that's  a  fact  I" 

But  if  fear  lifted  his  hair  up,  it  lifted  his  body  up,  likewise.  The 
thought  of  his  unarmed  condition  gave  him  wings,  which,  verily, 
he  needed,  for  he  had  slackened  his  pace  as  he  felt  for  his  knife,  and 
the  tomahawk  of  his  enemy  was  now  almost  at  his  shoulder. 

For  the  first  time  he  gained  ground  a  trifle.  He  had  watched  the 
motions  of  his  pursuer  so  closely,  however,  as  not  to  pay  attention 
to  the  nature  of  the  ground,  so  that  he  suddenly  found  himself  in 
front  of  a  large  tree,  which  had  been  torn  up  by  the  winds,  and 
whose  dry  branches  and  trunk  made  an  obstacle  eight  or  nine  feet 
high.  As  he  paused  before  this  hindrance,  the  young  chief  gave  a 
W,hoop  of  triumph. 

"  Yell  yer  throat  open,  yer  blasted  red  blood-hound  !"  thought  the 
invincible  Kentucky  ranger. 

Putting  his  soul  into  the  effort,  he  bounded  into  the  air  with  a 
power  which  astonished  himself  as  much  as  his  pursuers ;  trunk, 
limbs,  brush,  were  cleared — he  alighted  in  perfect  safety  on  the  other 
side.  A  loud  yell  of  amazement  burst  from  the  band  of  savages 
who  witnessed  the  feat,  which  not  even  the  young  chief,  Messbawa, 
had  the  hardihood  to  repeat. 

Kennan,  however^had  no  leisure  to  enjoy  his  triumph.  Dashing 
Into  the  creek,  where  its  high  banks  protected  him  from  the  fire  of 
the  Indians,  he  ran  up  the  edge  of  the  stream  until  he  came  to  a 
convenient  crossing-place,  when  he  rejoined  the  encampment,  where 
he  threw  hfmself  on  the  ground,  exhausted  by  his  exertions. 

He  had  little  time  for  re;t.  The  Indians  had  begun  a  furious 
168 


WILLIAM    KENNAN.  41 

attack,  which  raged  for  three  hours,  and  which  resulted  in  a  defeat  of 
the  whites  still  more  disastrous  than  that  of  Harmar's. 

In  the  retreat  which  followed,  Kennan  was  attached  to  the  bat 
talion  which  had  the  dangerous  service  of  protecting  the  rear.  This 
corps  quickly  lost  its  commander,  Major  Clarke,  and  was  completely 
demoralized.  Kennan  was  among  the  hindmost  when  the  retreat 
commenced  ;  but  the  same  powers  which  had  saved  him  in  the  morn 
ing  enabled  him  to  gain  the  front,  passing  several  horsemen  in  his 
flight.  The  retreat  of  the  whole  army  was  in  the  utmost  disorder- 
The  camp,  artillery,  baggage  and  wounded  were  left  in  the  hands 
of  the  enemy.  Most  of  the  officers,  who  had  fought  bravely,  were 
already  fallen. 

St.  Clair  himself,  who  had  been  confined  to  his  tent  with  the  gout, 
made  his  escape  on  a  pack-horse,  which  he  could  neither  mount  nor 
dismount  without  assistance.  The  flying  troops  made  their  way 
back  to  Fort  Jefferson.  Under  such  circumstances,  it  may  be  im 
agined  that  the  line  of  flight  was  a  scene  of  fearful  disorder.  The 
Indians,  making  matters  more  appalling  by  their  yells  of  triumph, 
pursued  the  routed  foe.  Giving  up  all  efforts  to  protect  the  rear,  the 
battalion  to  which  Keimaii  belonged  fled  as  it  could,  every  man  for 
himself. 

It  was  here,  as  he  was  making  good  his  own  retreat,  that  our 
hero  came  across  a  private  in  his  own  company,  an  intimate  friend, 
lying  upon  the  ground  with  his  thigh  broken,  who,  in  tones  of  pierc 
ing  distress,  implored  each  horseman  to  take  him  up.  When  he  be 
held  Kennan  coming  up  on  foot  he  stretched  out  his  hands  entreat- 
ingly.  Notwithstanding  the  imminent  peril,  his  friend  could  not 
withstand  this  passionate  appeal ;  he  lifted  him  upon  his  back,  and 
ran  in  that  manner  several  hundred  yards. 

The  enemy  gained  upon  them  so  fast  that  Keunan  saw  the  death 
of  both  was  certain  unless  he  relinquished  his  burden.  He  told  his 
friend  that  he  had  done  all  he  could  for  him,  but  that  it  was  in  vain. 
He  could  not  save  him,  and  unless  he  wished  both  to  perish,  to  let 
go  his  clasp  about  his  neck.  The  unhappy  man  only  clung  the 
more  tenaciously ;  Keunan  staggered  on  under  his  burden,  until  the 
foremost  of  the  enemy  were  within  twenty  yards  of  him — then, 
yielding  to  a  cruel  necessity,  he  drew  his  knife  form  its  sheath  and 

169 


42  TALES    AND    TRADITIONS. 

severed  the  fingers  of  the  wounded  man,  who  fell  to  the  ground,  and 
was  tomahawked  three  minutes  after. 

But  if  unsuccessful  in  the  attempt  to  save  this  fated  fellow-soldier, 
he  had  the  pleasure,  before  the  race  was  over,  of  saving  the  life  of 
one  who  afterward  became  his  warm  and  helpful  friend. 

Darting  forward  with  renewed  swiftness,  after  cutting  his  burden 
from  him,  he  was  again  out  of  immediate  danger,  when  he  came 
across  a  young  man,  sitting  upon  a  log,  calmly  awaiting  the  ap 
proach  of  his  enemies.  He  was  deadly  pale,  but  his  refined  and 
handsome  face  wore  not  the  least  expression  of  fear. 

"  Don't  you  know  the  red-skins  are  upon  us  ?"  called  out  the 
ranger. 

"I  know  it;  but  I  can  not  help  it.  I  have  never  been  strong, 
and  now  I  am  wounded.  I  could .  not  take  another  step  to  save 
my  life.  Go  on— don't  stop  to  pity  me." 

Kennan  was  too  brave  himself  not  to  admire  the  calm  courage 
of  this  young  man.  He  looked  about.  A  short  distance  off  he  saw 
an  exhausted  horse,  refreshing  himself  upon  the  luxuriant  grass. 
Running  after  the  animal,  he  caught  him  without  difficulty,  brought 
him  up,  assisted  the  wounded  stranger  to  mount,  and  ran  by  his  side 
until  they  were  out  of  danger.  Fortunately  the  pursuit  ceased  about 
that  time,  the  spoils  of  the  camp  offering  attractions  to  the  savages 
more  irresistible  even  than  the  blood  of  the  remaining  whites.  The 
stranger  thus  saved  by  Kennan  was  Madison,  afterward  Governor 
of  Kentucky,  who  continued  through  life  the  friendship  formed  that 
day. 

Kennan  never  entirely  recovered  from  the  superhuman  exertions 
he  was  compelled  to  make  on  that  disastrous  day. 

Of  this  melancholy  campaign  of  St.  Glair's,  Hall,  in  his  sketches 
of  the  West,  says  :  "  The  fault  was  not  in  the  leader,  but  in  the 
plan  of  the  expedition,  and  the  kind  of  troops  employed.  All  that 
an  old  commander,,  could  effect  with  such  a  force,  under  the  circum 
stances  by  which  he  was  surrounded  and  overruled,  was  accomplished 
by  General  St.  Glair.  The  brilliant  talents  of  this  brave  soldier  and 
veteran  patriot  were  exerted  in  vain  in  the  wilderness.  The  wari 
ness  and  perseverance  of  Indian  warfare  created  every  day  new 
obstacles  and  unforeseen  dangers ;  the  skill  of  the  experienced  leader 
170 


WILLIAM    KEN  A  AN.  43 

was  baffled,  and  undisciplined  force  prevailed  over  military  science. 
The  art  of  the  tactician  proved  insufficient  when  opposed  to  a  count 
less  multitude  of  wily  savages,  protected  by  the  labyrinths  of  the 
forest  and  aided  by  the  terrors  of  the  climate.  At  a  moment  of 
fancied  security  his  troops  Avere  assailed  upon  all  sides  by  a  numerous 
and  well-organized  foe,  who  had  long  been  hanging  on  his  flanks, 
and  had  become  acquainted  Avith  his  strength,  his  order  of  encamp 
ment,  and  the  distribution  of  his  force — Avho  knew  when  to  attack 
and  where  to  strike." 

The  loss  on  this  occasion  Avas  mournfully  great ;  thirty-eight  offi 
cers  and  eight  hundred  men  were  slain. 

Hall  further  says  :  "  In  reference  to  all  these  (Indian)  Avars,  it  has 
never  been  sufficiently  urged,  that  they  were  but  a  continuation,  and 
a  protracted  sequel  to  the  War.  of  Independence.  For  years  after 
the  United  States  had  been  acknowledged  as  a  nation,  Great  Britain 
continued  to  hold  a  number  of  military  posts  within  her  North  - 
Avestern  limits,  and  to  urge  a  destructive  warfare  through  her  savage 
allies.  It  was  against  Britain  that  St.  Clair,  Harmar,  Wayne  and 
Harrison  fought ;  and  they,  with  others,  who  bled  in  those  Western 
wilds,  contributed  as  much  to  the  purchase  of  our  independence,  as 
those  who  fought  for  our  birthright  at  an  earlier  period." 

Oh,  mother-country ;  how  very  like  the  worst  personification  of  a 
stepmother  thou  hast  ever  been,  and  still  art,  to  this  fairest  of  thy 
children. 

The  Indians  are  remarkable  for  fleetness  of  foot  and  endurance. 
Trained  from  childhood  to  the  forest  and  chase,  to  run  without  tiring 
is  one  of  their  most  esteemed  virtues.  They  have  been  known  fre 
quently  to  run  down  the  deer.  We  have  seen  them,  on  the  western 
plains,  exhaust  the  horse  in  the  contest  for  strength  of  "  wind." 
One  savage  of  the  Osages  used  to  run  from  one  village  to  another, 
a  distance  of  fifteen  miles,  in  one  hundred  minutes,  for  a  swallow  of 
"  fire-Avater,"  and  his  squaw  once  performed  the  feat  in  the  space  of 
two  hours,  for  the  price  of  three  yards  of  red  ribbon.  The  stories 
IIOAV  related  of  Ellerson  and  Kennan  prove  that,  in  speed  and  endur 
ance,  the  white  man  sometimes  excels  even  the  savages.  We  shall, 
in  the  course  of  these  pages,  have  occasion  to  mention  other  instances 
of  running  for  life. 

171 


44  TALES    AND    TRADITIOKS, 


MOLLY  PITCHER  AT  MONMOUTH. 

THE  battle  of  Monmouth  was  one  of  the  most  severely  contested 
engagements  of  the  Revolution.  From  the  rising  to  the  setting  sun, 
on  that  sultry  Sabbath  in  June,  two  armies  strove  for  the  mastery  of 
that  ensanguined  field,  until  heaps  of  dead  and  dying  strewed  the 
plain,  marking  the  path  of  the  serried  ranks  as  the  ebb  and  flow  of 
battle  changed  their  relative  positions.  Both  armies  fought  with  a 
desperate  determination  to  conquer,  and  instances  of  personal 
bravery  and  daring  were  innumerable ;  yet,  when  night  drew  her 
sable  mantle  over  the  earth,  shrouding  from  sight  the  soul-sickening 
scene,  neither  party  could  claim  the  meed  of  victory.  Of  the  many 
thrilling  incidents  of  that  eventful  day,  that  which  brought  into 
conspicuous  notice  the  heroine  of  our  story  was  not  the  least 
interesting. 

Molly  Pitcher,  or,  as  she  was  afterward  more  familiarly  known, 
Captain  Molly,  was  a  sturdy  young  Irish  woman  of  some  twenty-two 
or  twenty-three  years  of  age,  short,  thick-set,  with  red  hair,  a  freckled 
face,  and  a  keen,  piercing  eye,  which  gave  token  of  a  spirit  of  mis 
chief  ever  ready  for  a  frolic  or  a  fight.  She  was  the  wife  of  a 
Sergeant  in  an  artillery  corps,  which  had  seen  service  since  the 
commencement  of  the  war,  and  was  attached  to  him  with  all  the 
warmth  of  the  Irish  disposition.  She  had  followed  him  through  all 
his  campaigns,  and  was  with  him  at  Fort  Clinton,  in  the  Hudson 
highlands,  when  that  post  was  attacked  and  captured  by  Sir  Henry 
Clinton.  Here,  too,  she  gave  a  specimen  of  that  reckless  courage 
which  distinguished  her  at  Monmouth  some  nine  mouths  after.  Her 
husband,  who  was  in  the  act  of  touching  off  his  piece,  seeing  the 
British  scaling  the  walls,  and  getting  in  his  rear,  dropped  his  match, 
and  calling  to  Molly  to  follow,  fled  as  fast  as  his  legs  would  carry 
him.  She,  determined  not  to  waste  powder  and  ball,  and  knowing 
that  her  "petticoats"  would  protect  her  retreat  in  a  measure,  picked 
up  the  linstock,  fired  the  piece,  and  then  scampered  off.  She 
172 


MOLLY    PITCHER    AT    MONMOUTH.  45 

escaped  scot-free,  and  when  the  scattered  fugitives  from  the  forts 
were  collected,  and  the  artillery  was  attached  to  the  main  army,  she 
accompanied  her  husband  as  a  sutler,  and  was  with  him  through  that 
bitter  winter  at  Valley  Forge. 

When  Sir  Henry  Clinton  evacuated  Philadelphia,  and  took  up  his 
march  across  the  Jerseys,  Washington  left  his  winter  camp  and  pre 
pared  to  follow,  hoping  to  get  an  opportunity  to  strike  a  blow  which 
should  animate  his  own  troops  and  effectually  cripple,  perhaps  cap 
ture,  the  British  army.  On  the  plains  of  Monmouth  the  hostile 
armies  met  in  battle  array.  Of  the  details  of  the  action  it  is  not 
our  province  to  speak.  It  will  suffice  our  purpose  to  sny  that  Lee 
had  been  ordered  to  attack  the  British  on  their  first  movement,  and 
engage  them  until  the  main  army  of  the  Americans  could  be  brought 
into  action  by  Washington  in  person.  The  first  part  of  his  orders 
he  had  obeyed  ;  the  latter,  for  reasons  never  fully  explained,  he  did 
not  conform  to,  but  retreated  unexpectedly  toward  the  main  body, 
which  movement  was  timely  checked  by  Washington,  who  ordered 
the  whole  army  into  action.  It  became  necessary,  however,  for  a 
portion  to  fall  back  a  second  time  ;  and  to  check  the  pursuit,  the  ar 
tillery,  to  which  Molly's  husband  was  attached,  was  stationed  on  an 
eminence,-in  the  rear  of  a  hedge-row,  for  that  purpose.  Molly  her 
self  was  engaged  in  bringing  water  from  a  spring  to  assuage  the 
thirst  of  the  men  at  the  guns,  when  she  saw  her  husband  struck 
down  by  a  cannon-shot  from  the  enemy,  which  cut  him  nearly  in 
two,  killing  him  instantly  ;  at  the  same  time  she  heard  the  comman 
dant  order  the  piece  withdrawn,  as  he  had  no  one  to  fill  the  place 
now  vacant.  Molly  heard  the  order,  and  maddened  by  her  loss, 
rushed  forward,  exclaiming  as  she  did  so  :  "  No  !  you  shan't  remove 
the  gun,  neither.  Sh ure,  can't  I  ram  it  as  well  as  Tom,  there? 
Ah  !  it's  kilt  entirely  he  is,  bad  luck  to  the  bloody  vagabond  th;  t 
p'inted  the  gun  that  shot  him.  Sorra  a  day  was  it  when  ye  'listed, 
darlint,  to  leave  me  a  lone  widdy  now,  with  nary  a  soul  to  care 
wliether  I  live  or  die.  But  I'll  pay  the  dirty  vagabonds  for  this 
day's  work,  cuss  'em."  And  thus  alternately  apostrophizing  her 
husband  and  anathematizing  the  British,  she  continued  to  ram  the 
gun  until  it  was  withdrawn.  The  activity  and  courage  which  she 
exhibited  attracted  the  attention  of  all  who  witnessed  it,  and  on  the 

173 


46  TALTC3    AND    TRADITIONS. 

morning  after  the  battle  the  circumstance  was  reported  to  General 
Greene,  who  was  so  much  pleased  at  her  bravery  and  spirit  that  he 
sent  for  her  and  determined  to  present  her  to  the  Commander-in- 
Chief.  This  he  did,  covered  with  dirt  and  blood  as  she  was,  and 
Washington,  after  questioning  her,  conferred  on  her  a  warrant  as 
Sergeant,  and  subsequently,  by  his  influence,  her  name  was  placed 
on  the  list  of  half-pay  officers  for  life.  She  went  ever  after  by  the 
name  of  "  Captain  Molly"  and  the  French  officers,  particularly,  took 
a  great  deal  of  notice  of  her,  and  made  her  many  presents.  She 
dressed  in  a  mongrel  suit,  composed  of  a  cocked  hat,  soldier's  coat 
with  an  epaulette  on  one  shoulder,  and  petticoats.  In  this  rig  she 
would  pass  along  the  French  lines  any  clay  and  get  her  hat  filled 
with  crowns. 

Molly  Pitcher's  bravery  was  not,  perhaps,  of  the  highest  order, 
being  a  part  of  the  natural  recklessness  of  her  character ;  but  there  were 
women,  plenty  of  them,  in  the  time  of  our  country's  peril,  and  dur 
ing  the  still  more  dreadful  dangers  of  the  new  country,  who  proved 
their  heroism  to  be  of  the  noblest  sort.  Not  only  the  heroism  of 
endurance,  in  which  women  always  excel — the  endurance  of  fear, 
privation,  loneliness  and  grief — but  the  heroism  of  action.  Of  such 
metal  was  the  deed  of  prowess  which  has  immortalized  the  name  of 
Elizabeth  Zane.  In  1777,  Fort  Henry,  in  Ohio  county,  Virginia, 
was  attacked  by  Indians.  The  defence  was  made  with  vigor,  until 
the  ammunition  became  exhausted,  when  surrender  seemed  the  only 
alternative — a  fearful  alternative,  in  view  of  the  treacherous  charac 
ter  of  their  enemies.  There  was  a  keg  of  powder  in  a  house  about 
twelve  rods  distant,  to  obtain  which  would  prolong  the  defense,  and 
perhaps  preserve  the  lives  of  the  whole  garrison.  It  was  resolved 
that  one  person  should  venture  out,  and,  if  possible,  secure  and  bear 
into  the  fort  the  valued  prize.  The  Indians  having  retired  a  little 
distance,  a  favorable  opportunity  was  afforded  ;  but  it  became  diffi 
cult  to  decide  who  should  undertake  the  service,  as  many  soldiers 
were  emulous  for  the  honor  of  executing  the  perilous  enterprise. 

Their  contention  was  cut   short  by  Miss  Zane,  who  claimed  to  be 

chosen  for  performing  the  duty,  upon  the  ground  that  the  life  of  a 

soldier  was  more  valuable  to  be  employed  in  defending  the  fort,  and 

also  that  her  s»ex   might  save   her  errand    iVuui   suspicion   and  thus 

174 


ELIZABETH    ZANE.  47 

secure  its  success.  It  was  the  latter  plea,  which  was  somewhat 
plausible,  united  to  her  resolution,  which  overcame  the  scruples  of 
the  officer  in  command,  far  enough  to  permit  her  to  make  the 
attempt. 

Her  sex  migJit  protect  her  !  Ah  !  no  one  better  than  the  girl  her 
self  knew  how  very  slender  was  that  "  migh  t" — for  an  instant  her 
heart  stood  still  in  her  bosom,  as  the  gate  of  the  fort  opened  a  little 
and  closed  behind  her,  shutting  her  out  in  the  very  shadow  of  the 
valley  of  death  !  For  one  instant  her  eyes  grew  dark  and  her  ears 
rung,  and  in  her  bosom  she  felt,  by  apprehension,  the  piercing  anguish 
of  a  dozen  bullets ;  but,  as  quickly,  she  rallied,  and  with  a  light, 
fleet  foot  passed  on  to  the  house,  not  running,  for  fear  of  calling 
down  the  suspicions  of  tho  murderous  eyes  which  watched  her  every 
movement.  The  Indians  observed  her  leave  the  fort,  but,  as  she  had 
hoped,  did  not  at  first  comprehend  her  actions,  allowing  her  to  pass 
on  to  the  building,  without  molesting  her,  probably  absorbed  in  a 
momentary  wonder  at  her  sex  and  her  audacity. 

She  reached  the  house,  seized  the  powder,  and  hastened  to  return. 
By  this  time  the  savages  had  recovered  from  the  spell  which  the 
first  sight  of  the  young  heroine  had  thrown  upon  them ;  they  saw 
the  keg  of  powder  in  her  arms,  and  with  yells  of  anger,  fired  a  vol 
ley  after  her  as  she  ran  rapidly  toward  the  fort.  Fortunately,  not  a 
bullet  touched  her.  As  they  rattled  about  her,  singing  past  her  ears, 
they  only  gave  activity  to  her  movements.  In  another  moment  she 
was  safe  within  the  gate,  to  the  unbounded  joy  of  the  garrison. 
Animated  by  so  noble  an  example,  the  men  fought  with  a  vigor 
which  the  enemy  could  not  overcome,  who  were  compelled  to  raise 
the  siege. 

The  following  anecdote,  which  is  too  well  authenticated  to  be  dis 
puted,  furnishes  one  instance,  among  thousands,  of  that  heroic  spirit 
which  animated  the  American  women  during  the  struggle  for  Inde 
pendence. 

In  1775,  a  good  lady  lived  on  the  seaboard,  about  a  day's  march 
from  Boston,  where  the  British  then  were.  By  some  unaccountable 
mistake,  a  runior  was  spread,  in  town  and  country,  in  and  about 
her  residence,  that  the  regulars  were  on  a  march  for  that  place,  where 
they  would  arrive  in  about  three  hours.  This  was  after  the  battle 

175 


48  .  TALES    AND    TRADITIONS. 

of  Lexington,  and  all,  as  might  be  supposed,  was  in  sad  confusion ; 
some  were  boiling  with  rage  and  full  of  light ;  some  in  fear  and 
tribulation  were  hiding  their  treasures  :  others  flying  for  life.  In 
this  wild  moment,  when  most  people,  in  one  way  or  another,  were 
frightened  from  propriety,  our  heroine,  who  had  two  sons,  aged  re 
spectively  nineteen  and  sixteen,  was  seen  preparing  them  to  dis 
charge  their  duty  in  the  emergency.  The  eldest  she  was  enabled  to- 
equip  in  fine  style ;  she  took  her  husband's  fowling-piece,  "  made  for 
duck  or  plover,"  (the  good  man  being  absent  on  a  coasting  voyage 
to  Virginia,)  and  with  it,  the  powder-horn  and  shot-bag.  But  the 
lad,  thinking  the  duck  and  geese-shot  not  quite  the  size  to  kill  regu 
lars,  his  mother,  with  the  chisel,  cut  up  her  pewter  spoons,  ham 
mered  them  into  slugs,  put  them  into  his  bag,  and  he  set  off  in  great 
earnest,  calling  a  moment,  on  the  way,  to  see  the  parson,  who  said  : 

"  Well  done,  my  brave  boy.     God  preserve  you  !" 

The  youngest  was  importunate  for  hi*  equipments,  but  his 
mother  could  find  nothing  to  arm  him  with  but  an  old  rusty  sword. 
The  boy  seemed  unwilling  to  risk  himself  with  this  alone,  linger 
ing  in  the  street  until  his  mother  thus  upbraided  him  : 

"  You,  John  H ,  what  will  your  fathei^say,  if  he  hears  that 

a  child  of  his  is  afraid  to  meet  the  British  ?  Go  along ;  beg  or 
borrow  a  gun,  or  you'll  find  one,  child;  some  coward,  I  dare  say, 
will  be  running  away  ;  then  take  his  gun  and  march  forward  !  If 
you  ccme  back,  and  I  hear  you  have  not  behaved  like  a  man,  I  shall 
carry  the  blush  of  shame  on  my  face  to  the  grave." 

She  then  shut  the  door,  wiped  the  tear  from  her  eye,  and  abided 
the  issue. 

There  were  not  wanting  American  ladies  whose  wit  and  courage 
could  bring  the  blush  of  shame  or  anger  to  the  haughtjr  faces  of  the 
British  officers.  There  is  scarcely  a  more  stinging  retort  on  record 
than  that  which  was  given  to  the  insolent  Tarleton  by  a  lady  at  Wash 
ington,  before  whom  he  was  boasting  his  feats  of  gallantry.  Said  he  : 

"  I  have  a  very  earnest  desire  to  see  your  far-famed  hero,  Colonel 
Washington." 

"  Your    wish,   Colonel,    might   have    been    fully   gratified,"    she 
promptly  replied,  <rhad  you   ventured  to   look  behind   you  at  the 
battle  of  the  Cowpens." 
176 


WOMEN    OF    THE    REVOLUTION.  51 

It  was  in  that  battle  that  Washington  had  wounded  Tarleton, 
which  gave  rise  to  an  equally  pointed  remark  from  Mrs.  Wiley  Jones, 
to  whom  Tarleton  had  observed  : 

"  You  appear  to  think  very  highly  of  Colonel  Washington  ;  yet  I 
have  been  told  that  he  is  so  ignorant  a  fellow  that  he  can  hardly 
write  his  own  name." 

"  It  may  be  the  case,"  she  readily  replied,  "  but  no  one  knows 
better  than  yourself  that  he  knows  how  to  make  his  mark" 

We  should  think  that  he  would  have  been  ready  to  drop  the  sub 
ject  in  the  presence  of  ladies  so  well  able  to  defend  their  country's 
gallant  officers. 

Mrs,  Thomas  Hey  ward,  in  two  instances,  with  the  utmost  firmness 
refused  to  illuminate  for  British  victories.  An  officer  forced  his  way 
into  her  presence,  sternly  demanding : 

"  How  dare  you  disobey  the  order  which  has  been  issued  ?  Why, 
madam,  is  not  your  house  illuminated  ?" 

"  Is  it  possible  for  me,  sir,"  replied  the  lady,  with  perfect  calm 
ness,  "  to  feel  a  spark  of  joy  ?  Can  I  celebrate  the  victory  of  your 
army  while  my  husband  remains  a  prisoner  at  St.  Augustine  ?" 

"  That  is  of  little  consequence,"  rejoined  the  officer ;  "  the  last 
hopes  of  the  rebellion  are  crushed  by  the  defeat  of  Greene  at  Gruil- 
ford.  You  shall  illuminate." 

"  Nojt  a  single  light,"  replied  the  lady,  "  shall  be  placed  on  such 
an  occasion,  with  my  consent,  in  any  window  of  my  house." 

"  Then,  madam,  I  will  return  with  a  party,  and  before  midnight, 
level  it  with  the  ground." 

"  You  have  power  to  destroy,  sir,  and  seem  well  disposed  to  use 
it ;  but  over  my  opinions  you  possess  no  control.  I  disregard  your 
menaces,  and  resolutely  declare — I  will  not  illuminate  !" 

Mrs.  Rebecca  Motte  was  another  lady  who  proved,  in  a  signal 
manner,  that  her  patriotism  was  equal  to  the  severest  test.  After 
the  abandonment  of  Camden  to  the  Americans,  Lord  Rawdon,  anx 
ious  to  maintain  his  posts,  directed  his  first  efforts  to  relieve  Fort 
Mott,  at  the  time  invested  by  Marion  and  Lee.  This  fort,  which 
commanded  the  river,  was  the  principal  depot  of  the  convoys  from 
Charleston  to  Camden,  and  the  upper  districts.  It  was  occupied  by  a 

garrison,  under  the  command  of  Captain  McPherson,  of  one  hundred 

179 


52  TALES    AND    TKADTTIONS. 

and  sixty-five  men,  having  been  increased  by  a  small  detachment 
of  dragoons  from  Charleston,  a  few  hours  before  the  appearance  of 
the  Americans. 

The  large  new  mansion-house  belonging  to  Mrs.  Motte,  which  had 
been  selected  for  the  establishment  of  the  post,  was  surrounded  by 
a  deep  trench,  along  the  interior  margin  of  which  was  raised  a 
strong  and  lofty  parapet.  Opposite,  and  northward,  upon  another 
hill,  was  an  old  farm-house  to  which  Mrs.  Motte  had  removed  when 
dismissed  from  her  mansion.  On  this  height  Lieutenant-Colonel 
Lee  took  position  with  his  force,  while  Marion  occupied  the  eastern 
declivity  of  the  ridge  on  which  the  fort  stood,  the  valley  running 
between  the  two  hills  permitting  the  Americans  to  approach  within 
four  hundred  yards. 

McPherson  was  unprovided  with  artillery,  but  hoped  to  be  relieve^ 
by  the  arrival  of  Lord  Rawdon  to  dislodge  the  assailants  before  they 
could  push  their  preparations  to  maturity.  He  therefore  replied  to 
the  summons  to  surrender — which  came  on  May  twentieth,  about  a 
year  after  the  victorious  British  had  taken  possession  of  Charleston — 
that  he  should  hold  out  to  the  last  moment  in  his  power. 

The  besiegers  had  carried  on  their  approaches  rapidly,  by  relays 
of  working-parties,  and,  aware  of  the  advance  of  Rawdon  with  all 
his  force,  had  every  motive  for  perseverance.  In  the  night  a  courier 
arrived  from  General  Greene,  to  advise  them  of  Rawdon's  retreat 
from  Camden,  and  to  urge  redoubled  activity  ;  and  Marion  persevered 
through  the  hours  of  darkness  in  pressing  the  completion  of  the 
works.  The  following  night  Lord  Rawdon  encamped  on  the  highest 
ground  in  the  country  opposite  Fort  Motte,  where  the  despairing  gar 
rison  saw  with  joy  the  illumination  of  his  fires,  while  the  Americans 
were  convinced  that  no  time  was  to  be  lost. 

The  large  house  in  the  center  of  the  encircling  trench  left  but  a 
few  yards  of  ground  within  the  British  works  uncovered  ;  burning 
the  mansion,  therefore,  must  compel  the  surrender  of  the  garrison. 
This  expedient  was  reluctantly  resolved  upon  by  Marion  and  Lee, 
who,  always  unwilling  to  destroy  private  property,  felt  the  duty  to 
be  unusually  painful  in  the  present  case.  It  was  the  summer  resi 
dence  of  the  owner/whose  deceased  husband  had  been  a  firm  friend 
to  his  country,  and  whose  daughter  (Mrs.  Pinckney)  was  the  wife  of 
180  " 


THE    BARONESS    DE  REIDESEL.  53 

a  gallant  officer  then  a  prisoner  in  the  hands  of  the  British.  Lee 
had  made  Mrs.  Motte's  dwelling  his  quarters,  at  her  pressing  invitation, 
and  with  his  officers  had  shared  her  liberal  hospitality.  Not  satis 
fied  with  polite  attentions  to  the  officers  while  they  were  entertained 
at  her  luxurious  table,  she  had  attended,  with  active  benevolence,  to 
the  sick  and  wounded,  soothed  the  infirm  with  kind  sympathy,  and 
animated  the  desponding  to  hope. 

It  was  thus  not  without  deep  regret  that  the  commanders  deter 
mined  upon  the  sacrifice,  and  the  Lieutenant-Colonel  found  himself 
compelled  to  inform  Mrs.  Motte  of  the  unavoidable  necessity  of  de 
stroying  her  property.  The  smile  with  which  the  communication 
was  received  gave  instant  relief  to  the  embarrassed  officer.  Mrs. 
Motte  not  only  assented,  but  declared  that  she  was  "gratified  with 
the  opportunity  of  contributing  to  the  good  of  her  country,  and 
should  view  the  approaching  scene  with  delight."  Shortly  after, 
seeing  by  accident  the  bows  and  arrows  which  had  been  prepared 
for  to  carry  combustible  matter,  she  sent  for  Lee,  and,  presenting 
him  with  a  bow  and  its  apparatus,  which  had  been  imported  from 
India,  requested  his  substitution  of  them,  as  better  adapted  for  the 
object  than  those  provided. 

An  interesting  incident,  illustrative  of  female  patriotism  and  acti 
vity,  is  given  by  Mr.  Headley  as  occurring  in  the  church  at  Litchfield, 
Connecticut.  The  pastor,  Judah  Champion,  was  an  ardent  patriot, 
and  on  a  certain  Sabbath  was  earnestly  preaching  and  praying  for  the 
success  of  the  American  arms.  During  the  service  a  messenger 
arrived,  announcing  that  St.  John's — which  had  been  besieged  six 
weeks,  and  was  regarded  as  the  key  to  Canada — was  taken.  "  Thank 
God  for  the  victory  !"  exclaimed  the  patriot  preacher,  and  the  cho 
rister,  clapping  his  hands  vigorously,  shouted  :  "  Amen,  and  amen  !'* 

The  communication  of  the  messenger  announced  that  our  army 
was  in  a  suffering  condition,  destitute  of  clothing,  without  stockings 
or  shoes.  "  Sorrows  and  pity  took  the  place  of  exultation,  and 
generous  sympathetic  eyes  filled  with  tears  on  every  side.  There 
was  scarcely  a  dry  eye  among  the  females  of  the  congregation.  As 
soon  as  the  audience  was  dismissed,  they  were  soon  gathered  to 
gether  in  excited  groups,  and  it  was  evident  that  some  scheme  was 
on  foot  that  would  not  admit  of  delay.  The  result  was,  that  when 

181 


54  TALES   AND   TRADITIONS. 

the  congregation  assembled  in  the  afternoon,  not  a  woman  was  to  be 
seen.  The  men  had  come  to  church,  but  their  earnest,  noble  wives 
and  daughters  had  taken  down  their  hand-cards,  drawn  forth  their 
spinning  wheels,  set  in  motion  their  looms,  while  the  knitting  and 
sewing  needles  were  plied  as  they  never  were  before.  It  was  a 
strange  spectacle  to  see  that  Puritan  Sabbath  turned  into  a  day  of 
secular  work.  The  pastor  was  at  the  meeting-house,  performing 
those  duties  belonging  to  the  house  of  God,  and  the  voice  of  prayer 
and  hymns  of  praise  ascended  as  usual  from  devout  and  solemn 
hearts ;  but  all  through  the  usually  quiet  streets  of  Litchfield  the 
humming  of  the  spinning-wheel,  the  clash  of  the  shuttle  flying  to 
and  fro,  were  heard,  making  strange  harmony  with  the  worship  of 
the  sanctuary.  But  let  it  not  be  supposed  that  these  noble  women 
had  gone  to  work  without  the  knowledge  of  their  pastor.  They  had 
consulted  with  him,  and  he  had  given  them  his  sanction  and  blessing. 

"  Swimming  eyes  and  heaving  bosoms  were  over  their  work,  and 
lips  moved  in  prayer  for  the  destitute  and  suffering  soldier.  The 
pastor's  wife  contributed  eleven  blankets  from  her  own  stores  to  the 
collection." 

The  women  of  the  Revolution  were  active  in  their  service  of 
relief  and  comfort  to  the  armies  of  the  country.  "The  supply  of 
domestic  cloth  designed  for  families  was  in  a  short  time,  by  the  labor 
of  the  females,  converted  into  coats  for  the  soldiers  ;  sheets  and 
blankets  were  fashioned  into  shirts ;  and  even  the  flannels  already 
made  up  were  altered  into  men's  habiliments.  Such  aid  was  ren 
dered  by  many  whose  deeds  of  disinterested  generosity  were  never 
known  beyond  their  own  immediate  neighborhood." 

Weights  of  clocks,  pans,  dishes,  pewter  services  of  plate,  then  com 
mon,  were  melted  by  the  women  and  given  to  the  army  to  be  used 
in  defense  of  freedom. 

In  1776,  Lafayette  passed  through  Baltimore,  and  was  honored 
with  a  public  reception.  In  the  gayeties  of  the  scene  he  was  seen 
to  be  sad.  "  Why  so  sad  ?"  said  a  gay  belle,  "vj  can  not  enjoy 
these  festivities,"  said  Lafayette,  "while  so  many  of  the  poor  soldiers 
are  without  shirts  and  other  necessaries."  "  They  shall  be  supplied," 
responded  the  fair  ladies  ;  and  the  scenes  of  the  festive  hall  were  ex 
changed  for  the  service  of  their  needles.  They  immediately  made 
182 


THE    LADIES    OF    BALTIMORE    AND    PHILADELPHIA.  55 

up  clothing  for  the  suffering  soldiers — one  of  the  ladies  cutting  out 
five  hundred  pairs  of  pantaloons  with  her  own  hands,  and  superin 
tending  the  making. 

In  1780,  a  cold  and  dreary  winter,  when  the  soldiers  greatly  suf 
fered,  the  ladies  of  Philadelphia  formed  an  Industrial  Association 
for  the  relief  of  the  American  army.  They  solicited  money,  sacri 
ficed  their  jewelry,  and  labored  with  their  own  hands.  Mrs.  Bache, 
daughter  of  Dr.  Franklin,  was  a  leading  spirit  in  these  patriotic 
efforts.  "  She  conducted  us,"  said  a  French  nobleman,  in  describing 
the  scene,  "into  a  room  filled  with  work  lately  finished  by 
the  ladies  of  Philadelphia.  It  was  shirts  for  the  soldiers  of  Penn 
sylvania.  The  ladies  bought,  the  cloth  from  their  own  private  purses, 
and  took  a  pleasure  in  cutting  them  out  and  sewing  them  together. 
On  each  shirt  was  the  name  of  the  married  or  unmarried  lady  who 
made  it ;  and  they  amounted  to  twenty-two  hundred.  During 
the  cold  winter  that  followed,  thousands  of  poor  soldiers  in  Wash 
ington's  camp  had  occasion  to  bless  the  women  of  Philadelphia  for 
these  labors  of  love." 


THE  BARONESS  DE  REIDESEL. 

ONE  of  the  most  interesting  papers  of  personal  reminiscences, 
which  has  come  down  to  us  from  Revolutionary  times,  is  the  narra 
tive  by  the  Baroness  de  Reidesel,  wife  of  the  distinguished  German, 
the  Baron  de  Reidesel,  a  Major-General  in  Burgoyne's  army  of  inva 
sion.  With  all  the  truth  of  a  high-minded  lady,  and  the  devotion 
of  a  true  wife  and  mother,  she  accompanied  her  husband  to  America, 
and  was  present  at  the  disastrous  defeat  of  Burgoyne  at  Saratoga. 
Her  story  gives  us  an  inside  view  of  the  British  camp,  and  reveals 
the  hardships  to  which  she  was  exposed.  After  the  battle  of  Sara 
toga  she  witnessed  the  British  retreat,  and  never  after  could  refer  to 

183 


60  TALES    AND    TRADITIONS. 

il  without  weeping— the  terrible  scene  so  affected  her.  In  his  rather 
pretentious  "  memoirs,"  General  Wilkinson  has  engrafted  her  entire 
narrative.  We  give  our  readers  so  much  of  the  interesting  docu 
ment  as  our  space  permits.  The  "  women  of  America  "  will  peruse 
it  with  intense  interest.  After  detailing  her  experiences  up  to  the 
day  of  battle,  (October  7th,  1779,)  she  proceeds  : 

"  I  was  at  breakfast  with  my  husband  and  heard  that  something 
was  intended.  On  the  same  day  I  expected  Generals  Burgoyne, 
Phillips  and  Frazer  to  dine  with  us.  I  saw  a  great  movement 
among  the  troops  ;  my  husband  told  me  it  was  merely  a  reconnais 
sance,  which  gave  me  no  concern,  as  it  often  happened.  I  walked 
out  of  the  house  and  met  several  Indians  in  their  war-dresses,  with 
guns  in  their  hands.  When  I  asked  them  where  they  were  going, 
they  cried  out :  '  War !  war !'  meaning  that  they  were  going  to 
battle.  This  filled  me  with  apprehension,  and  I  had  scarcely  got 
home  before  I  heard  reports  of  cannon  and  musketry,  which  grew 
louder  by  degrees,  till  at  last  the  noise  became  excessive. 

"  About  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  instead  of  the  guests  whom  I 
expected,  General  Frazer  was  brought  on  a  litter,  mortally  wounded. 
The  table,  which  was  already  set,  was  instantly  removed,  and  a 
bed  placed  in  its  stead  for  the  wounded  General.  I  sat  trembling  in 
a  corner ;  the  noise  grew  louder,  and  the  alarm  increased  ;  the 
thought  that  my  husband  might  be  brought  in,  wounded  in  the  same 
manner,  was  terrible  to  me,  and  distressed  me  exceedingly.  General 
Frazer  said  to  the  surgeon,  '  Tell  ma  if  my  wound  is  mortal  ;  do  not 
flatter  me.1  The  ball  had  passed  through,  his  body,  and,  unhappily 
for  the  General,  he  had  eaten  a  very  hearty  breakfast,  by  which  his 
stomach  was  distended,  and  the  ball,  as  the  surgeon  said,  had  passed 
through  it.  I  heard  him  often  exclaim,  with  a  sigh,  '  Oh  fatal  am 
bition  !  Poor  General  Burgoyne !  Oh !  my  poor  wife  /'  He  was 
asked  if  he  had  any  request  to  make,  to  which  he  replied,  that,  '  Tf 
General  Burgoyne  would  permit  it,  he  would  like  to  be  buried,  at  six 
o'clock  in  the  evening,  on  the  top  of  a  mountain,  in  a  redoubt  which  had 
been  built  tfuere.' 

"  I  did  not  know  which  way  to  turn  ;  all  the  other  rooms  were 
full  of  sick.  Toward  evening  I  saw  my  husband  coming  ;  then  I 

forgot  all  my  sorrows,  and  thanked  God   that  he  'was  spared  to  me. 

184' 


THE    BARONESS    DE  REIDESEL.  ,)7 

He  ate  in  great  haste,  with  me  and  his  aid-de-camp,  behind  the 
house.  We  had  been  told  that  we  had  the  advantage  over  the  enemy, 
but  the  sorrowful  faces  I  beheld  told  a  different  tale  ;  and  before  my 
husband  went  away  he  took  me  aside,  and  said  every  thing  was  going 
very  badly,  and  that  I  must  keep  myself  in  readiness  to  leave  the 
place,  but  not  to  mention  it  to  any  one.  I  made  the  pretense  that 
I  would  move  the.  next  morning  into  my  new  house,  and  had  every 
thing  packed  up  ready. 

"  Lady  Ackland  had  a  tent  not  far  from  our  house ;  in  this  she 
slept,  and  the  rest  of  the  day  she  was  in  the  camp.  All  of  a  sadden 
a  man  came  in  to  tell  her  that  her  husband  was  mortally  wounded, 
and  taken  prisoner.  On  hearing  this  she  became  very  miserable. 
We  comforted  her  by  telling  her  that  the  wound  was  very  slight,  and 
advised  her  to  go  over  to  her  husband,  to  do  which  she  would  cer 
tainly  obtain  permission,  and  then  she  could  attend  him  herself. 
She  was  a  charming  woman,  and  very  fond  of  him.  I  spent  much 
of  the  night  in  comforting  her,  and  then  went  again  to  my  children, 
whom  I  had  put  to  bed. 

"  I  could  not  go  to  sleep,  as  I  had  General  Frazer  and  all  the 
other  wounded  gentlemen  in  my  room,  and  I  was  sadly  afraid  my 
children  would  wake,  and  by  their  crying  disturb  the  dying  man  in 
his  last  moments,  who  often  addressed  me  and  apologized  'for  the 
trouble  he  gave  me?  About  three  o'clock  in  the  morning,  I  was  told 
that  he  could  not  hold  out  much  longer  ;  I  had  desired  to  be  in 
formed  of  the  near  approach  of  this  sad  crisis,  and  I  then  wrapped 
up  my  children  in  their  clothes,  and  went  with  them  into  the  room 
below.  About  eight  o'clock  in  the  morning  he  died. 

"  After  he  was  laid  out,  and  his  corpse  wrapped  up  in  a  sheet, 
we  came  again  into  the  room,  and  had  this  sorrowful  sight  before  us 
the  whole  day  ;  and,  to  add  to  the  melancholy  scene,  almost  every 
moment  some  officer  of  my  acquaintance  was  brought  in  wounded. 
The  cannonade  commenced  again  ;  a  retreat  was  spoken  of,  but  not 
the  smallest  motion  was  made  toward  it.  About  four  o'clock  in  the 
afternoon,  I  saw  the  house,  which  had  just  been  built  for  me,  in 
dames,  and  the  enemy  was  now  not  far  off.  We  knew  that  General 
Burgoyne  would  not  refuse  the  last  request  of  General  Frazer, 
though,  by  his  acceding  to  it,  an  unnecessary  delay  was  occasioned, 

185 


58  TALES    AND    TRADITIONS. 

by  which  the  inconvenience  of  the  army  was  much  increased.  At 
six  o'clock  the  corpse  was  brought  out,  and  we  saw  all  the  Generals 
attend  it  to  the  mountain.  The  Chaplain,  Mr.  Brudenell,  performed 
the  funeral  service,  rendered  unusually  solemn  and  awful  from  its 
being  accompanied  by  constant  peals  of  the  enemy's  artillery.  Man/* 
cannon-balls  flew  close  by  me,  but  I  had  my  eyes  directed  toward 
the  mountain,  where  my  husband  was  standing,  amidst  the  fire  of 
the  enemy  ;  and,  of  course,  I  could  not  think  of  my  own  danger. 

"  General  Gates  afterward  said,  that,  if  he  had  known  it  had  been 
a  funeral,  he  would  not  have  permitted  it  to  be  fired  on. 

"  As  soon  as  the  funeral  service  was  finished,  and  the  grave  of 
General  Frazer  closed,  an  order  was  issued  that  the  army  should  re 
treat.  My  calash  was  prepared,  but  I  would  not  consent  to  go  before 
the  troops.  Major  Harnage,  though  suffering  from  his  wounds,  crept 
from  his  bed,  as  he  did  not  wish  to  remain  in  the  hospital,  which 
was  left  with  a  flag  of  truce.  When  General  Reidesel  saw  me  in 
the  midst  of  danger,  he  ordered  my  women  and  children  to  be 
brought  into  the  calash,  and  intimated  to  me  to  depart  without  delay. 
I  still  prayed  to  remain,  but  my  husband,  knowing  my  weak  side, 
said,  *  Well,  then,  your  children  must  go,  that  at  least  they  may  be 
safe  from  danger.'  I  tlien  agreed  to  enter  the  calash  with  them,  and 
we  set  off  at  eight  o'clock. 

"  The  retreat  was  ordered  to  be  conducted  with  the  greatest  silence, 
many  fires  were  lighted,  and  several  tents  left  standing  ;  we  traveled 
continually  through  the  night.  At  six  o'clock  in  the  morning  we 
halted,  which  excited  the  surprise  of  all ;  this  delay  seemed  to  dis 
please  everybody,  for  if  we  could  only  have  made  another  good  march 
we  should  have  been  in  safety.  My  husband,  quite  exhausted  with 
fatigue,  came  into  my  calash,  and  slept  for  three  hours.  During 
that  time,  Captain  Willoe  brought  me  a  bag  full  of  bank  notes,  and 
Captain  Grisrnar  his  elegant  gold  watch,  a  ring,  and  a  purse  full  of 
money,  which  they  requested  me  to  take  care  of,  and  which  I  prom 
ised  to  do,  to  the  utmost  of  my  power.  We  again  marched,  but 
had  scarcely  proceeded  an  hour,  before  we  halted,  as  the  enemy  was 
in  sight ;  it  proved  to  be  only  a  reconnoitering  party  of  two  hundred 
men,  who  might  easily  have  been  made  prisoners,  if  General  Bur- 
goyne  had  given  proper  orders  for  the  occasion. 
180 


THE    BARONESS    DE  REIDESEL.  59 

"  The  Indians  had  now  lost  their  courage,  and  were  departing  for 
their  homes  ;  these  people  appeared  to  droop  much  under  adversity, 
and  especially  when  they  had  no  prospect  of  plunder.  One  of  my 
waiting-women  was  in  a  state  of  despair,  which  approached  to  mad 
ness  ;  she  cursed  and  tore  her  hair,  and  when  I  attempted  to  reason 
with  her,  and  to  pacify  her,  she  asked  me  if  I  was  not  grieved  at 
our  situation,  and  on  my  saying  I  was,  she  tore  her  hat  off  her  head 
and  let  her  hair  fall  over  her  face,  saying  to  me,  '  It  is  very  easy  for 
you  to  be  composed  and  talk ;  you  have  your  husband  with  you  ;  I 
have  none,  and  what  remains  to  me  but  the  prospect  of  perishing  or 
losing  all  I  have  ?'  I  again  bade  her  take  comfort,  and  assured  her 
I  would  make  good  whatever  she  might  happen  to  lose ;  and  I  made 
the  same  promise  to  Ellen,  my  other  waiting-woman,  who,  though 
filled  with  apprehension,  made  no  complaints. 

"  About  evening  we  arrived  at  Saratoga  ;  my  dress  was  wet  through 
and  through  with  rain,  and  in  this  state  I  had  to  remain  the  wThole 
night,  having  no  place  to  change  it ;  I  however  got  close  to  a  large 
fire,  and  at  last  lay  down  on  some  straw.  At  this  moment  General 
Phillips  came  up  to  rne,  and  I  asked  him  why  he  had  not  continued 
our  retreat,  as  my  husband  had  promised  to  cover  it,  and  bring  the 
army  through  ?  '  Poor,  dear  woman,'  said  he,  '  I  wonder  how, 
drenched  as  you  are,  you  have  the  courage  still  to  persevere,  and 
venture  further  in  this  kind  of  weather  ;  I  wish,'  continued  he, 
4  }rou  was  our  commanding  General ;  General  Burgoyne  is  tired,  and 
means  to  halt  here  to-night  and  give  us  our  supper.'  , 

"  On  the  morning  of  the  17th,  at  ten  o'clock,  General  Burgoyne 
ordered  the  retreat  to  be  continued,  and  caused  the  handsome  houses 
and  mills  of  General  Schuyler  to  be  burnt ;  we  marched,  how 
ever,  but  a  short  distance,  and  then  halted.  The  greatest  misery  at 
this  time  prevailed  in  the  army,  and  more  than  thirty  officers  came 
to  me,  for  whom  tea  and  coffee  was  prepared,  and  with  whom  I 
shared  all  my  provisions,  with  which  my  calash  was  in  general  well 
supplied,  for  I  had  a  cook  who  was  an  excellent  caterer,  and  who 
often  in  the  night  crossed  small  rivers,  and  foraged  on  the  inhabitants, 
bringing  in  with  him  sheep,  small  pigs,  and  poultry,  for  which  he 
very  often  forgot  to  pay,  though  he  received  good  pay  from  ine  so 
long  as  I  had  any,  and  was  ultimately  handsomely  rewarded.  Our 

187 


60  TALES    AND    TRADITIONS. 

provisions  now  failed  us,  for  want  of  proper  conduct  in  the  commis 
sary's  department,  and  I  began  to  despair. 

"  About  two  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  we  again  heard  a  firing  of 
cannon  and  small-arms  ;  instantly  all  was  alarm,  and  every  thing  in 
motion.  My  husband  told  me  to  go  to  a  house  not  far  off.  I  im 
mediately  seated  myself  in  my  calash,  with  my  children,  and  drove 
off;  but  scarcely  had  we  reached  it  before  I  discovered  five  or  six 
armed  men  on  the  other  side  of  the  Hudson.  Instinctively  I  threw 
my  children  down  in  the  calash,  and  then  concealed  myself  with 
them.  At  this  moment  the  fellows  fired,  and  wounded  an  already 
wounded  English  soldier,  who  was  behind  me.  Poor  fellow  !  I  pitied 
him  exceedingly,  but  at  this  moment  had  no  means  or  power  to 
relieve  him. 

"  A  terrible  cannonade  was  commenced  by  the  enemy,  against  the 
house  in  which  I  sought  to  obtain  shelter  for  myself  and  children, 
under  the  mistaken  idea  that  all  the  Generals  were  in  it.  Alas  !  it 
contained  none  but  wounded  and  women.  We  were  at  last  obliged 
to  resort  to  the  cellar  for  refuge,  and  in  one  corner  of  this  I  remained 
the  whole  day,  my  children  sleeping  on  the  earth  with  their  heads 
in  my  lap ;  and  in  the  same  situation  I  passed  a  sleepless  night. 
Eleven  cannon-balls  passed  through  the  house,  and  we  could  dis 
tinctly  hear  them  roll  away.  One  poor  soldier  who  was  lying  on  a 
table,  for  the  purpose  of  having  his  leg  amputated,  was  struck  by  a 
shot,  which  carried  away  his  other  ;  his  comrades  had  left  him,  and 
when  we  went  to  his  assistance,  we  found  him  in  the  corner  of  a 
room,  into  which  he  had  crept,  more  dead  than  alive,  scarcely  breath 
ing.  My  reflections  on  the  danger  to  which  my  husband  was  exposed 
now  agonized  me  exceedingly,  and  thoughts  of  my  children,  and  the 
necessity  of  struggling  for  their  preservation,  alone  sustained  me. 

."  The  ladies  of  the  army  who  were  with  me,  were  Mrs.  Haruage, 
a  Mrs.  Kennels,  the  widow  of  a  Lieutenant  who  was  killed,  and  the 
lady  of  the  commissary.  Major  Harnage,  his  wife,  and  Mrs.  Ken 
nels,  made  a  little  room  in  a  corner  with  curtains  to  it,  and  wished 
to  do  the  same  for  me,  but  I  preferred  being  near  the  door,  in  case 
of  fire.  Not  far  off  my  women  slept,  and  opposite  to  us  three  Eng 
lish  officers,  who,  though  wounded,  were  determined  not  to  be  left 
behind  ;  ono  of  them  was  Captain  Green,  an  aid-de-camp  to  Major- 

188 


THE    BARONESS    DE  REIDESEL.  61 

General  Phillips,  a  very  valuable  officer  and  most  agreeable  man. 
They  each  made  me  a  most  sacred  promise  not  to  leave  me  behind, 
and,  in  case  of  sudden  retreat,  that  they  would  each  of  them  take 
one  of  my  children  on  his  horse  ;  and  for  myself,  one  of  my  hus 
band's  was  in  constant  readiness. 

"  Our  cook,  whom  I  have  before  mentioned,  procured  us  our  meals, 
but  we  were  in  want  of  water,  and  I  was  often  obliged  to  drink 
wine,  and  to  give  it  to  my  children.  It  was  the  only  thing  my  hus 
band  took,  which  made  our  faithful  hunter,  Rockel,  express  one  day 
his  apprehensions,  that  '  the  General  was  weary  of  his  life;  or  fearful 
of  being  taken,  as  he  drank  so  much  wine.'  The  constant  danger  which 
my  husband  was  in,  kept  me  in  a  state  of  wretchedness  ;  and  I 
asked  myself  if  it  was  possible  I  should  be  the  only  happy  one, 
and  have  my  husband  spared  to  me  unhurt,  exposed  as  he  was  to  so 
many  perils.  He  never  entered  his  tent,  but  lay  down  whole  nights 
by  the  watch-fires ;  this  alone  was  enough  to  have  killed  him,  the 
cold  was  so  intense. 

"The  want  of  water  distressed  us  much;  at  length  we  found  a 
soldier's  wife,  who  had  courage  enough  to  fetch  us  some  from  the 
river,  an  office  nobody  else  would  undertake,  as  the  Americans  shot 
at  every  person  who  approached  it ;  but  out  of  respect  for  her  sex, 
'they  never  molested  Tier. 

"  I  now  occupied  myself  through  the  day  in  attending  to  the 
wounded  ;  I  made  them  tea  and  coffee,  and  often  shared  my  dinner 
with  them,  for  which  they  offered  me  a  thousand  expressions  of 
gratitude.  One  day  a  Canadian  officer  came  to  our  cellar,  who  had 
scarcely  the  power  to  hold  himself  upright,  and  we  concluded  he 
was  dying  for  want  of  nourishment ;  I  was  happy  in  offering  him  my 
dinner,  which  strengthened  him,  and  procured  me  his  friendship.  I 
now  undertook  the  care  of  Major  Bloomfield,  another  aid-de-cam p 
of  General  Phillips;  he  had  received  a  musket-ball  through  both 
cheeks,  which  in  its  course  had  knocked  out  several  of  his  teeth,  and 
cut  his  tongue  ;  he  could  hold  nothing  in  his  mouth,  the  matter 
which  ran  from  his  wound  almost  choked  him,  and  he  was  not  able 
to  take  any  nourishment  except  a  little  soup,  and  something  liquid. 
We  had  some  Rhenish  wine,  and  in  the  hope  that  the  acidity  of  it 
•would  cleanse  his  wound,  I  gave  him  a  bottle  of  it.  He  took  a  little 

189 


Q'l  TALES    AND    TRADITIONS. 

now  and  then,  and  with  such  effect  that  his  cure  soon  followed  :  thus 
I  added  another  to  my  stock  of  friends,  and  derived  a  satisfaction 
which,  in  the  midst  of  suffering,  served  to  tranquilize  me. 

"  One  day,  General  Phillips  accompanied  my  husband,  at  the  risk 
of  their  lives,  on  a  visit  to  us.  The  General,  after  having  witnessed 
our  situation,  said  to  him,  '  I  would  not  for  ten  thousand  guineas 
come  again  to  this  place,  my  heart  is  almost  broken.' 

"  lu  this  horrid  situation  we  remained  six  days  ;  a  cessation  of  hos 
tilities  was  now  spoken  of,  and  eventually  took  place.  A  convention 
was  afterward  agreed  on  ;  but  one  day  a  message  was  sent  to  my 
husband  who  had  visited  me,  and  was  reposing  in  my  bed,  to  attend 
a  council  of  war,  where  it  was  proposed  to  break  the  convention ; 
but,  to  my  great  joy,  the  majority  were  for  adhering  to  it.  On  the 
sixteenth,  however,  my  husband  had  to  repair  to  his  post,  and  I  to 
my  cellar.  This  day  fresh  beef  was  served  out  to  the  officers,  who 
till  now  had  only  had  salt  provisions,  which  was  very  bad  for  their 
wounds.  The  good  woman  who  brought  us  water  made  us  fin  ex 
cellent  soup  of  the  meat,  but  I  had  lost  my  appetite,  and  took  noth 
ing  but  crusts  of  bread  dipped  in  wine.  The  wounded  officers,  my 
unfortunate  companions,  cut  off  the  best  bit,  and  presented  it  to  me 
on  a  plate.  I  declined  eating  any  thing,  but  they  contended  that  it 
was  necessary  for  me  to  take  nourishment,  and  declared  they  would 
not  touch  a  morsel  till  I  afforded  them  the  pleasure  of  seeing  me 
partake.  I  could  no  longer  withstand  their  pressing  invitations,  ac 
companied  as  they  were  by  assurances  of  the  happiness  they  had  in 
offering  me  the  first  good  thing  they  had  in  their  power,  and  I  par 
took  of  a  repast  rendered  palatable  by  the  kindness  and  good-will 
of.  my  fellow-sufferers,  forgetting  for  a  moment  the  misery  of  our 
apartment,  and  the  absence  of  almost  every  comfort. 

"  On  the  17th  of  October,  the  convention  was  completed.  Gen 
eral  Burgoync  and  the  other  Generals  waited  on  the  American  Gen 
eral  Gates  ;  the  troops  laid  down  their  arms,  and  gave  themselves  up 
prisoners  of  war !  And  now  the  good  woman  who  had  supplied  us 
with  water  at  the  hazard  of  her  life  received  the  reward  of  her  ser 
vices  ;  each  of  us  threw  a  handful  of  money  into  her  apron,  and  she 
got  altogether  about  twenty  guineas.  At  such  a  moment  as  this 
bow  susceptible  is  the  heart  of  feelings  of  gratitude  ! 
190 


THE    BARONESS    DE  REIDESEL.  03 

"  My  husband  sent  a  message  to  me,  to  come  over  to  him  with  my 
two  children.  I  seated  myself  once  more  in  my  dear  calash,  and 
then  rode  shrongh  the  American  camp.  As  I  passed  on,  I  observed, 
and  this  was  a  great  consolation  to  me,  that  no  one  eyed  me  with 
looks  of  resentment,  bat  that  they  all  greeted  us,  and  even  showed 
compassion  in  their  countenances  at  the  sight  of  a  woman  with  small 
children.  I  was,  I  confess,  afraid  to  go  over  to  the  enemy,  as  it 
was  quite  a  new  situation  to  me.  When  I  drew  near  the  tents,  a 
handsome  man  approached  and  met  me,  took  my  children  from  the 
calash,  and  hugged  and  kissed  them,  which  almost  affected  me  to  tears. 
'  You  tremble,'  suid  he,  addressing  himself  to  me ;  '  be  not  afraid.' 
'  Xo,'  I  answered,  '  you  seem  so  kind  and  tender  to  my  children,  it 
inspires  me  with  courage.'  He  now  led  me  to  the  tent  of  General 
Gates,  where  I  found  Generals  Burgoyne  and  Phillips,  who  were  on 
a  friendly  footing  with  the  former.  Burgoyne  said  to  me,  '  Never 
mind  ;  your  sorrows  have  an  end.'  I  answered  him,  '  that  I  should 
be  reprehensible  to  have  any  cares,  as  he  had  none ;  and  I  was 
pleased  to  see  him  on  such  friendly  footing  with  General  Gates.' 
All  the  Generals  remained  to  dine  with  General  Gates. 

'  The  same  gentleman  who  received  me  so  kindly,  now  came  and 
said  to  me,  '  You  will  be  very  much  embarrassed  to  eat  with  all  these 
gentlemen  ;  come  with  your  children  to  my  tent,  where  I  will  prepare 
for  you  a  frugal  dinner,  and  give  it  with  a  free  will.'  I  said,  '  You 
are.  certainly  a  husband  and  a  father,  you  hate  showed  me  so  much 
kindness.'  I  now  found  that  he  was  GENERAL  SCHUYLER.  He 
treated  me  with  excellent  smoked  tougue,  beefsteak,  potatoes,  and 
good  bread  and  butter  !  Never  could  I  have  wished  to  eat  a  better 
dinner ;  I  was  content ;  I  saw  all  around  me  were  so  likewise ;  and 
what  was  better  than  all,  my  husband  was  out  of  danger. 

"  When  we  had  dined,  he  told  me  his  residence  was  at  Albany, 
and  that  General  Burgoyne  intended  to  honor  him  as  his  guest,  and 
invited  myself  and  children  to  do  so  likewise.  I  asked  my  hus 
band  how  I  should  act ;  he  told  me  to  accept  the  invitation.  As  it 
was  two  days'  journey  there,  he  advised  me  to  go  to  a  place  which 
was  about  three  hours'  ride  distant.  General  Schuyler  had  the 
politeness  to  send  with  me  a  French  officer,  a  very  agreeable  man, 
who  commanded  the  reconnoitering  party  of  which  I  have  before 
191 


64  TALES    AND    TRADITIONS. 

spoken  ;  and  when  he  had  escorted  me  to  the  house  where  I  was  to 
remain,  he  turned  back  again. 

"  Some  days  after  this  \ve  arrived  at  Albanj',  where  \ve  so  often 
wished  ourselves;  but  we  did  not  enter  it  as  we  expected  we  should 
—victors  !  We  were  received  by  the  good  General  Schuyler,  his 
wife  and  daughters,  not  as  enemies,  but  as  kind  friends;  and  they 
treated  us  with  the  most  marked  attention  and  politeness,  as  they  did 
General  Burgoyne,  who  had  caused  General  Schuyler's  beautifully 
finished  house  to  be  burnt.  In  fact,  they  behaved  like  persons  of 
exalted  minds,  who  determined  to  bury  all  recollections  of  their  own 
injuries  in  the  contemplation  of  our  misfortunes.  General  Burgoyne 
was  struck  with  General  Schuyler's  generosity,  and  said  to  him, 

*  You  show  me  great  kindness,  though  I  have  done  you  much  injury.' 

*  That  was  the  fate  of  war,'  replied  the  brave  man,  '  let  us  say  no 
more  about  it.'  " 

This  presents  a  picture  of  those  trying  times  upon  which  it  is 
both  pleasurable  and  painful  to  dwell.  It  outlines  General  Schuy 
ler  as  a  noble  nature,  which  is  true  to  history.  He  was  a  brave 
among  the  brave — chivalrous  as  the  Cid,  gentle  as  a  woman,  wise  as 
Solomon.  Next  to  Greene,  he  is  regarded  by  those  most  conver 
sant  with  the  men  of  the  Revolution,  as  the  column  which  most 
sustained  Washington  in  his  gigantic  labors  ;  while,  as  one  of  those 
who,  after  our  independence  was  won,  contributed  most  toward  the 
reorganization  of  government  and  society.  It  is  agreeable  to  con 
template  such  a  character,  for  it  heightens  the  worship  which  this 
generation  feels  for  those  who  won  the  priceless  boon  of  a  nation's 
freedom  ! 


192 


T  A.  L  E  S, 


TRADITIONS  AND  ROMANCE 


OF 


BORDER  AND  REVOLUTIONARY  TIMES. 


THE   LITTLE   SENTINEL. 
TECUMSEH  AND   THE  PRISONERS 
HORSEWHIPPINQ  A  TYRANT. 
THE   MOTHER'S   TRIAL. 


BEADLE  AND  COMPANY,  PUBLISHERS, 

118  WILLIAM    STREET. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1863,  by 

BEADLE   AND   COMPANY, 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States  for  the 
Southern  District  of  New  York. 


THE 


LITTLE   SENTINEL. 


A  TALL,  portly-looking  man  stood  on  a  table  in  the  midst  of  a  crowd 
of  farmer-like  individuals,  haranguing  them  in  an  energetic  manner 
regarding  the  crisis  in  affairs  of  the  country.  He  was  dressed  in 
the  scarlet  and  buff  regimentals  of  a  British  officer,  although,  like 
the  most  of  his  audience,  he  was  a  resident  of  the  neighborhood. 
The  time  was  that  important  period  in  the  history  of  our  country 
just  succeeding  the  battles  of  Lexington  and  Bunker  Hill,  when 
every  man  felt  called  upon  to  decide  the  part  he  should  take  in  the 
contest  which  all  saw  was  impending.  The  place  was  the  vicinity 
of  Scoharie  Kill,  a  branch  of  the  Mohawk  river,  in  the  State  of 
New  York.  The  persons,  George  Mann,  a  loyalist  of  great  wealth, 
three  of  the  king's  Commissioners,  and  the  yeomanry  of  the  neigh 
borhood,  from  the  gray-haired  man  of  sixty  winters,  to  the  youth  of 
sixteen  and  eighteen  summers  :  in  fact,  all  the  male  population  of 
the  Scoharie  valley  capable  of  bearing  arms.  The  king  had  "  hon 
ored  "  Mann  with  a  Captain's  commission,  and  the  Commissioners 
had  called  the  people  together  for  the  purpose  of  administering  the 
oath  of  allegiance  and  recruiting  from  their  number  a  company,  to 
the  command  of  which  Mann  was  to  be  assigned.  They  had  been 
ordered  to  bring  their  arms  with  them,  and  a  large  majority  had 
done  so.  Their  equipments  were  as  varied  as  their  opinions — and 
these  were  of  many  shades — from  the  determined  and  bitter  Tory, 
through  the  various  degrees  of  loyalty  to  the  wavering  and  undecided  ; 
and  thence  to  the  lukewarm,  warm,  devoted,  and  ardent  Whig.  Such 
as  had  taken  the  oath  were  adorned  with  a  piece  of  scarlet  cloth 
stuck  in  their  hats ;  while  some,  more  enthusiastic  than  others,  woro 

197 


0  TALES    AND    TRADITIONS. 

scarlet  caps.     All  these  were  enrolled  and  mustered  under  arms,  pre 
paratory  to  receiving  the  drill  from  their  new  Captain.     Many  of 
the  lukewarm  and  undecided  took  the  oath  of  allegiance  from  fear 
of  consequences.     There  were  but  a  limited  few  bold  and  determined 
enough  to  abjure  the  oath  and  all  allegiance  to  the  king.     Of  this 
number  were  Nicholas  Stemberg  and  William  Dietz,  who  had  been 
so  earnest  in  their  denunciations  of  the  tyranny  and  injustice  of  the 
mother  country,  that,  when  they  left  for  home  on  the  evening  of  the 
first  day,  they  were  assailed  with  denunciations  of  vengeance.     They 
were  proclaimed   as  traitors,  and  threatened   with  a  nocturnal  visit 
by  the  bitterest  among  those  whom  the  occasion  had  shown  to  be 
their  enemies.     Fearing  these  threats  would  be  put  into  execution, 
Stemberg  spent  the  night  in  the  woods,  while  his  family  were  trem 
bling  with  fear  at  home.      On  his  return  to  that  home  in  the  morn 
ing,  he  was  agreeably  disappointed  to  find  it  undisturbed,  and,  with 
his  neighbor  Dietz,  again  repaired  to  the  parade,  with  an  unaltered 
determination,  however,  to  take  no  obligation  of  allegiance.     They 
found,  on  arriving  at  Mann's  house,  that  upward  of  one  hundred 
were  enrolled  and  scattered  about  the  grounds  ;  while  others,  who 
had   not   made   up  their  minds   upon  which  side  they  should   range 
themselves,  were  listening  to  an  ardent  harangue  from  the  Captain. 
Mounted  on  a  table,  and  dressed  in  all  the  paraphernalia  of  war,  he 
was  alternately  coaxing,  wheedling,  and  urging  them  to  take  part  in 
the  raid  against  rebellion,  commanding  those  who   had  already  en 
rolled  themselves,  and  threatening  dire  'vengeance,  confiscation  of 
property,  imprisonment  and  death,  against  those  who  dared  to  side 
with  the  rebels.     The  hour  seemed  propitious,  and  the  loyal  Captain 
was  carrying  every  thing  before  his  storm  of  eloquence  and  denunci 
ations,  when,  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye,  a  storm  of  a  different  kind 
burst  upon  his  head,  which  scattered  to  the  winds  the  results  of  all 
his  efforts.     News  of  the  Captain's  labors  had  been  conveyed  to  Al 
bany,  and  while  he  was  in  the  midst  of  one  of  his  most  earnest  ap 
peals,  two  hundred  horsemen,  under  command  of  Captain  Woodbake, 
made  their  appearance,  tearing  up  the  road,  with  sabers  drawn  and 
determination  flashing  from  their  eyes.     One  glance  was  all-sufficient 
for  .the  doughty  Captain,  and  the  next  moment— his  coat-skirts  flying 
.in  the  wind,  his  queue  sticking  straight  out  behind  him — he  was  on 
198 


THE    LITTLE    SENTINEL.  7 

his  way  to  the  shelter  of  the  neighboring  woods  as  fast  as  his  legs 
could  cany  him.  His  followers  were  immediately  transformed  into 
firm  and  devoted  patriots,  except  a  certain  few  who  had  been  such 
enthusiastic  Tories  that  they  could  not  hope  to  escape  merited  pun 
ishment,  and  these  pursued  their  flying  commander.  The  scarlet 
badges  disappeared  in  the  most  sudden  and  unaccountable  manner, 
and  when  Captain  Woodbake  and  his  party  reached  the  spot  where 
the  loyal  Captain  had  stood,  he  found  none  but  Whigs  to  receive 
him.  His  object,  therefore — the  dispersion  of  the  meeting  without 
bloodshed — was  accomplished,  and  he  proceeded  to  proclaim  the 
rule  of  Congress.  Before  doing  so,  however,  he  gave  orders  that 
Mann  should  be  taken,  either  dead  or  alive.  There  were  plenty  will 
ing  to  undertake  this  task,  and  patrols  were  soon  stationed  in  every 
direction,  so  that  it  was  nearly  impossible  for  him  to  escape. 

Among  others  who  volunteered  for  this  duty,  was  Lambert,  the 
eldest  son  of  Nicholas  Steinberg,  a  lad  of  fifteen  or  sixteen  years. 
He  was  stationed  by  the  side  of  one  of  those  structures  called  bar 
racks,  so  often  seen  in  a  new  country,  consisting  of  a  thatch  sup 
ported  on  four  posts  over  a  stack  of  wheat  or  hay.  The  youth  was 
proud  of  his  trust,  desiring  nothing  more  earnestly  than  to  meet  with 
the  Captain  and  take  him  prisoner.  During  the  afternoon,  a  violent 
thunder-storm  arose,  and  to  shelter  himself  from  its  inclemencies, 
the  young  sentry  climbed  to  the  top  of  the  stack,  where,  to  his  as 
tonishment,  he  found  the  loyal  fugitive  snugly  ensconced.  Presenting 
his  musket  to  his  breast,  he  informed  him  that  his  orders  were  to 
take  him,  dead  or  alive — and  he  must  surrender  or  be  shot.  The 
Captain,  whose  courage  and  lofty  bearing  had  left  him  simultaneously 
with  the  appearance  of  Woodbake,  begged  hard  for  his  life,  and  be 
sought  the  young  patriot  to  allow  him  to  escape  ;  for,  if  taken  pris 
oner,  he  would  be  hung  by  the  militia  men  to  the  first  tree,  without 
shrift  or  absolution.  Stemberg  replied  that  his  orders  were  impera* 
live,  and  he  dared  not  disobey  them.  But  Mann  implored  for  mercy 
in  such  piteous  tones — reminding  him  that  he  was  a  neighbor,  had 
never  done  him  harm,  had  ever  been  kind  to  him,  &c.,  &c. — 
that,  a  violent  struggle  took  place  in  the  breast  of  the  young 
soldier  between  his  duty  and  his  sympathy.  He  could  not 
shoot  him  in  cold  blood,  and  he  would  not  surrender;  so, 

199 


8  TALES    AND    TBADITION8. 

to  compromise  the  matter  with  himself,  he  proposed  to  fire  his 
musket  in  token  of  alarm,  that  others  might  come  and  take  his 
prisoner.  This  was  earnestly  objected  to  by  the  Captain,  who  saw 
the  struggle  going  on  in  his  captor's  breast,  and  determined  to  take 
advantage  of  it.  Watching  his  opportunity,  therefore,  when  his  at 
tention  was  removed  from  him,  and  a  violent  clap  of  thunder  covered 
his  movement,  he  slipped  off  the  stack,  and  sliding  down  one  of  the 
posts,  made  a  rapid  retreat  for  the  mountains.  Stemberg,  as  in  duty 
bound,  fired  his  musket  at  him,  but  was  not  sorry  that  his  shot  was 
fruitless.  The  report  soon  brought  others  to  the  spot,  and  after  hear 
ing  the  story  of  the  tender-hearted  sentinel,  they  immediately  started 
in  pursuit  of  the  fugitive,  who  had  many  narrow  escapes,  but  finally 
eluded  their  vigilance  and  hid  himself  in  the  fastnesses  of  the  hills, 
where  he  remained  for  two  weeks.  He  was  induced,  at  the  end  of 
that  time,  to  surrender,  upon  the  condition  that  he  should  not  suffer 
personal  injury.  He  was  taken  to  Albany,  where  he  was  kept  a 
close  prisoner  until  the  end  of  the  war,  when  he  again  returned  to 
his  estate,  and,  becoming  a  firm  Republican,  ended  his  days  there. 

Those  who  think  young  Steinberg's  neighborly  feelings  made  him 
too  lenient  toward  the  humiliated  loyalist,  will  be  better  pleased  with 
the  following  record  of  the  resolute  manner  in  which  another  lad 
captured  and  controlled  a  couple  of  desperadoes. 

On  a  fine  May  morning,  1780,  as  the  family  of  Sheriff  Firman,  of 
Freehold  county,  New  Jersey,  was  at  breakfast,  a  breathless  soldier 
burst  into  the  room,  stating  that  as  he  and  another  were  conducting 
to  the  court-house  two  men,  taken  up  on  suspicion  at  Colt's  Neck, 
they  had  knocked  down  his  comrade,  seized  his  musket,  and  escaped. 
The  Sheriff,  on  hearing  this  relation,  mounted  his  horse  and  galloped 
to  the  court-house  to  alarm  the  guard.  His  son,  Tunis,  a  lad  of 
about  seventeen,  small  of  his  age,  seized  a  musket,  loaded  only  with 
small  shot  to  kill  blackbirds  in  the  cornfields,  and,  putting  on  a  car 
tridge-box,  sent  his  little  brother  up  stairs  for  the  bayonet,  and  then, 
forgetting  to  wait  for  it,  hurried  off  alone  in  pursuit. 

After  running  in  a  westerly  direction  about  a  mile,  he  discovered 

the  men  sitting  on  a  fence,  who,  perceiving  him,  ran  into  a  swamp. 

As  the  morning  was  warm,  he  hastily  pulled  off  his  shoes  and  coat, 

and  darted  in  after  them,  keeping  close  after  them  for  over  a  mile, 

200 


TUNIS'S   STKATAGEM. 

when  they  got  out  of  the  swamp,  and  climbed  into  separate  trees. 
As  he  came  up  one  of  them  discharged  at  him  the  musket  taken 
from  the  guard.  The  ball  whistled  over  his  head.  Feeling  for  his 
bayonet,  he  discovered  that  it  was  still  with  his  little  brother.  He 
then  pointed  his  gnn  at  the  man  with  the  musket,  but  deemed  it  im 
prudent  to  fire,  reflecting  that,  even  if  he  killed  him,  his  comrade 
could  easily  match  such  a  stripling  as  himself.  He  compelled  the 
man  to  throw  down  the  musket  by  threatening  him  with  instant 
death  if  he  did  not  comply.  Then,  loading  the  fusee  from  his  car 
tridge-box,  he  forced  his  prisoners  down  from  the  trees,  and,  armed 
with  his  two  loaded  muskets,  drove  them  toward  the  court-house, 
careful,  however,  to  keep  them  far  apart,  to  prevent  conversation.- 
Passing  by  a  spring,  they  requested  permission  to  drink. 

"  No  !"  replied  the  courageous  boy,  understanding  their  design, 
"you  can  do  without  it  as  well  as  myself;  you  shall  have  some  by- 
and-by." 

Soon  after,  his  father,  at  the  head  of  a  party  of  soldiers,  galloped 
past  in  the  road  within  a  short  distance.  Tunis  hallooed,  but  the 
clattering  of  their  horses'  hoofs  drowned  his  voice.  At  length  he 
reached  the  village,  and  lodged  his  prisoners  in  the  county  prison. 

It  was  subsequently  discovered  that  these  men  were  brothers,  from 
near  Philadelphia ;  that  they  had  robbed  and  murdered  a  Mr.  Boyd, 
a  collector  of  taxes  in  Chester  county,  and,  when  taken,  were  on 
their  way  to  join  the  British.  As  they  had  been  apprehended  on 
suspicion  merely  of  being  refugees,  no  definite  charge  could  be 
brought  against  them.  A  few  days  later,  Sheriff  Firman  saw  an  ad 
vertisement  in  a  Philadelphia  paper,  describing  them,  with  the  facts 
above  mentioned,  and  a  reward  of  twenty  thousand  dollars  (Conti 
nental  money,)  offered  for  their  apprehension.  He,  accompanied  by 
his  son,  took  them  on  there,  where  they  were  tried  and  executed. 
On  entering  Philadelphia,  young  Tunis  was  carried  through  the 
streets  in  triumph  upon  the  shoulders  of  the  military.  In  the  latter 
part  of  the  war  this  young  man  became  very  active,  and  was  the 
special  favorite  of  General  David  Firman. 

Not  solitary  are  the  incidents  of  boyish  heroism  on  record  ;  and 
yet  how  far  the  larger  number  must  have  passed  unnoticed,  in  the 
midst  of  the  trials  and  excitements  of  those  troublous  Revolutionary 

201 


10  TALES    AND    TRADITIONS. 

times.  Children  catch  the  fire  which  burns  in  the  parent  heart ; 
and  where  the  father  rushes  eagerly  to  the  salvation  of  his  country, 
and  the  mother — concealing  her  sadness  and  fears,  puts  on  a  hopeful 
countenance,  speaking  the  ennobling  sentiments  of  patriotism — it 
may  well  be  credited  that  the  boys  were  not  cowards.  We  have 
some  very  interesting  recollections  of  that  period  preserved  in  the 
private  Diary  of  the  wife  of  a  Revolutionary  officer,  who,  while  her 
husband  served  his  country  on  the  battle-field,  remained  with  her 
father,  who  was  a  clergyman  of  the  Church  of  England,  at  their  lit 
tle  parsonage  on  Long  Island,  and  whose  daily  jottings- down  of 
events  and  emotions,  just  as  they  were  seen  and  felt,  make  her  sim 
ple  pictures  full  of  the  power  of  reality.  When  we  read  them  we 
feel  as  if  that  time  were  before  us,  and  those  actors  still  lived.  Long 
Island,  after  the  memorable  retreat  of  Gen.  Washington,  on  the 
morning  of  the  30th  of  August,  1776,  remained  in  the  hands  of  the 
enemy,  and  was  the  scene  of  many  distressing  outrages  and  calami- 
lies  of  all  kinds — pillage,  insult,  robbery,  the  destruction  of  farm 
implements,  the  impressment  of  men  and  horses,  with  the  horrors 
of  a  prowling  hired  soldiery,  and  frequent  murders,  being  among 
the  dark  list.  Speaking  of  the  spirit  of  the  boys  of  those  days,  leads 
us  to  quote  from  the  lady's  Diary  : 

"Wednesday,  Nov.  2tth,  1776. — Yesterday  my  indignation  was 
aroused  to  a  high  degree.  I  was  sitting  in  the  end  of  the  porch,  my 
father  at  my  side,  and  little  Mary,  with  your  letter  in  her  hands,  pre 
tending  to  read  it,  when  a  loud  cry  startled  us.  It  seemed  to  come 
from  Pattison's,  our  nearest  neighbor.  Charles  went  over,  returned, 
and  gave  us  this  account  of  the  affair.  It  appears  that  Edmund  Pat- 
tison  was  enjoying  his  noon  rest  quietly  in  the  barn  (he  is  a  noble- 
looking  lad  of  eighteen,  tall,  athletic,  and  of  a  high  spirit,)  when  a 
light-horseman  rode  up  to  the  door. 

"  '  Youngster,'  said  he,  '  make  haste  and  bestir  yourself.  Go  and 
assist  that  driver  of  the  two  yoke  of  oxen  there  to  unload  his  cart 
of  timber  into  the  road.' 

"  Now,  Edmund  had  been  hard  at  work  with  his  own  hired  man, 
loading  the  wagon,  to  take  the  timber  to  a  farmer  three  miles  off,  to 
whom  it  was  sold  by  his  father;  the  wagon  and  teams  both  belonged 
to  the  Pattisons. 
202 


THE    SOLDIER    AND   THE   FARMER.  11 

'"Hurry,  sir,'  said  the  light-horseman. 

"Edmund  firmly  replied  :  '  I  shall  not  do  it.' 

"  '  What,  sirrah !  we  shall  see  who  will  do  it,'  and  drawing  his 
sword,  he  held  it  over  Edmund's  head,  cursing,  swearing,  and  threat 
ening  to  cut  him  down  unless  he  instantly  unloaded  his  team  and 
helped  to  carry  in  it  provisions  to  the  British  army. 

"  With  unblanched  cheek,  Edmund  Pattison  reiterated  his  denial, 
telling  him  to  do  it  for  himself.  Enraged  beyond  measure  at  such  a 
contempt  of  orders,  it  seemed  as  if  the  man  must  strike  and  kill  the 
stubborn  boy,  who,  firm  and  undaunted,  said  not  a  word. 

"At  this  time  our  Charles,  who  was  on  the  spot,  ran  to  the  house 
and  told  Mrs.  Pattison  that  '  the  Britisher  was  going  to  kill  her  Ed 
mund.' 

"Her  cry  it  was  that  we  heard  from  the  porch.  She  ran  to  the 
barn  and  begged  the  soldier  to  desist.  He  was  more  furious  than 
ever,  supposing  the  fears  of  the  mother  would  induce  compliance. 
She,  too,  expostulated  with  her  son,  imploring  him  to  assist  in  un 
loading  the  wagon,  and  save  himself  from  death. 

"'No  fear  of  death,  mother;  he  dare  not' touch  a  hair  of  my 
head.' 

"  The  boy  grew  more  determined,  the  soldier  more  enraged — flour 
ishing  his  saber  and  swearing  that  he  would  be  the  death  of  him. 

"'You  dare  not.  I  will  report  you  to  your  master  for  this,'  said 
Edmund,  boldly.  Upon  this  the  light-horseman  mounted,  telling  the 
boy  once  more  that  if  he  did  not  instantly  begin  the  work  he  would 
cut  him  into  inch  pieces.  Edmund  coolly  walked  across  the  barn 
floor,  armed  himself  with  a  pitchfork,  and  took  his  station  in  the 
doorway. 

*  You  cowardly  rascal,'  said  he,  *  clear  out,  or  I'll  stab  you  with 
my  pitchfork !' 

"His  mother  could  endure  the  scene  no  longer;  she  ran  to  the 
house,  where  she  met  her  husband,  and  sent  him  to  rescue  Edmund. 
Friend  Pattison,  a  sensible,  clear-headed  man,  rode  up,  and  seeing  mat 
ters  at  this  high  pass,  said  to  the  Britisher  :  '  You  know  your  duty  ; 
you  have  no  right  to  lay  a  finger  on  him,  a  non-combatant  on  neu 
tral  ground.'  Seeing  no  signs  of  relenting,  farmer  Pattison  turned 
his  horse  toward  the  road,  saying  he  would  soon  see  Colonel  Warms, 

203 


12  TALES    AND   TRADITIONS. 

and  know  who  had  the  power  to  threaten  and  abuse  the  farmers  of 
the  country  in  that  style.  The  light-horseman  was  now  alarmed. 
Thinking  it  best  to  get  there  first,  he  put  spurs  to  his  horse,  riding  off 
with  awful  imprecations. 

"  Thus  Edmund  escaped  for  this  time  ;  though  I  much  fear  his  de 
fying,  fearless  spirit  may  yet  cost  him  dear." 

On  another  page  she  relates  an  anecdote  of  her  own  son. 

"Tuesday.— A.  press  for  horses  yesterday.  -I  will  relate  how  Char 
ley  saved  our  young  horse.  He  and  James  Pattison  were  idly  sit 
ting  on  the  fence,  the  other  side  of  the  pond,  talking  indignantly  of 
the  insults  of  the  British,  to  whom  the  former  shows  no  mercy, 
when  they  espied  a  light-horsemen  at  a  farm-house  door.  They 
knew  the  next  place  would  be  Isaac  Willett's,  which,  though  only 
across  the  pond,  is  completely  hid  from  our  view  by  a  stately  row  of 
poplars,  forming  a  leafy  screen ;  and  they  knew  his  errand,  too— that 
he  would  be  here  in  an  instant,  for  when  '  pressing '  they  galloped 
from  house  to  house  with  violent  speed. 

"  '  Fleetfoot  shall  not  go,'  said  Charles,  '  without  an  effort  to  save 
him,'  and,  running  with  all  his  might  to  the  barn,  he  jumped  on  his 
back  and  rode  for  the  woods. 

"  On  the  instant  he  was  seen  by  the  red-coat,  who  put  spurs  to  his 
horse,  and  came  on  a  full  run  toward  the  woods,  where  Charles  had 
disappeared.  My  heart  beat  quick  when  the  red-coat,  too,  was  lost 
to  sight.  My  dear,  brave  child  might  fall  from  his  horse,  and  be 
dashed  against  the  trees  in  the  hot  pursuit  of  the  light-horseman. 

"  My  father  and  I  sat  gazing  intently  toward  the  woods,  awaiting 
the  result  in  breathless  anxiety,  astonished  at  the  boy's  daring,  and 
ready  to  reprove  his  rash  spirit,  in  attempting  to  save  the-young  horse 
at  the  risk  of  his  own  neck.  In  about  au  hour's  time  we  saw  the 
red-coat  come  out  of  the  woods  below.  He  stopped  a  man  in  the 
road  and  made  inquiries,  but  getting  no  satisfaction,  rode  off. 

"At  nightfall,  peeping  his  way  through  the  wood,  Charles  made 
his  appearance,  still  mounted  on  his  favorite  Fleetfoot.  By  signs  we 
made  known  to  him  that  the  danger  was  past,  and  he  rode  up  to  the 
house, 

"  Overjoyed  to  see  him,  he  told  us  his  story,  which  Grace  and 
Marcia  drank  in  with  greedy  ears.     Indeed,  the  scene  on  the  porch 
204 


LITTLE    SARAH.  13 

was  worthy  of  Hogarth's  pencil.  On  one  side  was  his  poor  affrighted 
mother,  and  the  little  girls,  with  eyes  wide  open,  full  of  wonder ; 
near  by,  the  venerable  grandfather,  with  silver  locks  parted  on  a 
peaceful  brow  ;  and  Charley,  standing  close  by  his  steed,  as  he  re 
counted  his  hair-breadth  '  'scape,'  leaning  his  head  occasionally 
against  his  proud  neck,  so  that  my  boy's  curls  of  gold  mingle  with 
the  ebon  niane  of  Fleetfoot. 

"  He  said  that  he  struck  deeper  and  deeper  into  the  woods,  going 
from  one  place  to  another,  until  the  forest  became  very  dense  and 
dark.  He  rode  into  a  tangled,  marshy  place,  where  he  stood  five 
hours  without  moving  !  At  one  time  he  heard  his  pursuer  close  by, 
heard  his  fearful  oaths,  heard  him  lashing  the  sides  of  his  own  jaded 
steed.  Charley's  heart  beat  violently.  But  the  bog  was  wet  and 
gloomy,  and  the  soldier's  ardor  was  dampened— he  durst  not  venture. 
So  Charley  and  Fleetfoot  were  left  to  themselves  in  the  deep  wood. 
A  brave  feat  for  a  boy  of  only  fourteen." 

One  more  extract  from  this  lively  diary  we  will  give  to  show  the 
influence  of  the  maidens  on  the  hard  hearts  of  the  enemy — that  the 
girls  as  well  as  the  boys  had  their  parts  to  play  in  the  drama. 

"  Wednesday. — Charles  accompanied  John  Harris  home  from  school, 
with  my  permission,  last  night.  He  returned  this  morning,  with  a 
story  of  the  night,  which  he  related  to  me  in  breathless  excite 
ment. 

"  A  family  living  a  mile  from  us  were  quietly  sitting  together  in  the 
evening,  when  a  noise  was  heard  at  the  door  like  that  of  a  sharp 
instrument  thrust  into  it.  On  opening  the  door  there  stood  a  red  - 
coat  with  his  saber  in  his  hand,  which  he  had  stuck  into  the  wood 
an  inch  or  two.  He  was  backed  by  a  dozen  men.  They  pushed 
their  way  in,  and  were  very  unruly,  rummaging  and  ransacking 
every  drawer  and  closet ;  but  the  family  had  long  before  taken  the 
precaution  to  place  all  their  money  and  valuables  in  a  small  room, 
which  opened  out  of  the  common  sitting-room,  putting  a  large  cup 
board  before  the  door,  which  covered  it  entirely  ;  so  that  the  Hes 
sians  quartered  there  last  winter  never  discovered  the  device. 

"  The  red-coats,  highly  incensed  at  finding  nothing,  began  to  threaten 
terrible  things  if  they  did  not  divulge  the  hiding-place.  Mr.  M.  told 
them  that  if  they  dared  do  any  violence,  he  would  report  them  to  tha 

205 


14  TALKS    AND    TRADITIONS. 

commanding  officer.  Whereupon,  they  actually  went  into  the  kitchen, 
kindled  some  light  wood,  came  out,  and  set  a  burning  brand  at  each 
corner  of  the  house.  The  family  were  exceedingly  alarmed.  In 
great  terror,  Sarah,  the  youngest  daughter,  rushed  out.  She  is  fumed 
through  all  the  north-side  for  her  comeliness.  I  can  well  imagine  that 
she  must  have  appeared  to  them  like  a  lovely  apparition  with  her 
glowing  cheek  and  flashing  eye.  The  ringleader,  astonished,  stood 
with  his  torch  in  his  hand,  gazing  at  her.  At  length  he  said  : 

"'  Angel !' 

"  *  Stop,  I  entreat  you !'  said  Sarah. 

"  His  looks  were  riveted  upon  her  with  an  ardent  admiration  which 
embarrassed  her. 

"  *  I  will,  on  one  condition,'  said  he. 

"  '  What  is  it  ?' 

"  '  Will  you  give  it  ?' 

'"If  I  can,'  replied  Sarah. 

"  '  It  is,  that  you  will  allow  me  to  kiss  you.' 

"  '  Oh,  if  that  is  all,'  said  her  father,  '  comply,  my  daughter.' 

"  So,  as  she  made  no  resistance,  the  rough  soldier  planted  a  fervent 
kiss  on  her  lips,  expressed  himself  satisfied,  and  departed.  They 
found,  before  her  baby-house,  that  the  soldiers  had  stuck  the  dolls  on 
their  bayonets,  and  railed  among  themselves  and  laughed. 

"  It  is  seldom  that  a  man's  house  is  attacked  more  than  once.  Mr. 
Harris  had  his  turn  some  time  ago  ;  therefore,  although  he  saw  some 
suspicious-looking  persons  lurking  about,  he  feared  nothing,  and 
arose  at  daylight,  with  the  intention  of  going  to  the  south  of  the 
island  for  salt  hay.  Mrs.  Harris,  however,  began  to  feel  uneasy  and 
timid,  from  the  reports  she  heard  during  the  following  day,  and  the 
recollection  of  her  never-to-be-forgotten  injuries,  and  persuaded  her 
husband  to  stay  at  home.  That  night  passed  without  disturbance. 
About  nine  o'clock  the  next  evening,  a  neighbor  stopped  at  the  gate 
in  his  wagon,  and  he  and  Mr.  Harris  were  talking  over  the  exciting 
times  and  scenes  enacting  around  the  country,  when  they  saw  a  man 
moving  about  the  fields,  and  passing  now  and  then  in  and  out  of  the 
edge  of  the  woods.  One  of  the  serving-women,  too,  had  seen  some 
one  about  dark  standing  close  by  the  wood-pile,  who  hud  vanished 
on  her  appearance  at  the  door  of  the  kitchen.  In  consequence  of 
208 


ItOBEKT    GIBBS.  15 

these  signs  Mr.  Harris  concluded  to  sit  up,  and  keep  lights  and  fires 
burning  about  the  house.  Charles,  and  the  older  children,  were  sent 
to  bed,  but  not  to  sleep — that  was  impossible  with  their  perturbed 
and  excited  imaginations.  About  twelve  o'clock,  Mr.  Harris  being 
on  the  look-out,  saw  a  man  at  a  short  distance  from  the  house,  re- 
connoitering ;  he  now  held  a  consultation  with  his  wife  and  the  two 
hired  men.  They  came  to  the  conclusion  that  an  attack  was  medi 
tated,  and  that  it  was  time  to  act ;  they  determined  to  leave  the  house 
in  a  body,  taking  the  two  loaded  guns,  the  money,  silver,  and  small 
valuables.  Though  the  next  house  was  full  two  miles  off,  there 
seemed  no  other  alternative.  The  poor  little  frightened  children 
were  hurried  up  and  dressed  ;  their  fears  and  cries  were  hushed,  and 
they  were  carried  down  stairs.  As  quietly  as  possible,  all  left  the 
house  by  the  back  door.  It  was  a  moment  of  intense  anxiety  ;  their 
hearts  beat  with  dread  ;  with  trembling  limbs,  which  almost  refused 
to  bear  them,  they  moved  on.  '  Faint,  though  pursuing,'  they  en 
deavored  to  stay  their  minds  above.  At  length,  arrived  at  Mr.  S.'s, 
another  difficulty  presented  itself.  The  family  would  inevitably  take 
them  for  robbers,  and  be  liable  to  fire  upon  them.  In  this  dilemma 
Mr.  Harris  thought  it  best  to  go  close  to  the  door  and  call  out  his 
name,  trusting  that  his  voice  would  be  recognized,  which  was  the 
case.  The  poor  wanderers  were  kindly  received,  and  after  they  had 
talked  over  their  fright,  were  provided  with  comfortable  beds.  The 
house  of  Mr.  S.  has  never  been  attacked,  it  is  so  well  secured,  the 
doors  and  windows  being  lined  and  bound  with  iron,  a  fact  well 
known  to  the  marauders." 

Thus  the  little  diary  goes  on.  Sometimes  the  brutal  bands  mur 
dered  those  who  opposed  them  in  their  own  houses,  upon  their  own 
hearthstones.  Reared  in  the  midst  of  such  excitement,  it  would  be 
but  natural  that  the  youth  of  the  struggling  country  should  become 
quick-witted  and  self-reliant. 

And  since  \ve  have  shown  how  brave  the  boys  could  be,  let  us  re 
peat  an  incident  of  the  heroism  of  a  little  girl  in  these  same  days  of 
trial  : 

"Robert  Gibbs,  a  gentleman  earnestly  devoted  to  the  patriotic 
cause,  was  the  owner  of  a  plantation  on  the  Stono,  a  few  miles  from 
Charleston,  on  which,  on  a  certain  occasion,  a  Hessian  battalion  en- 

207 


16  TALES   AND    THADITIONS. 

camped,  compelling  the  family  to  surrender  to  their  use  the  lower 
part  of  the  mansion,  and  to  confine  themselves  in  the  upper  story. 
While  here  on  one  dark  and  stormy  evening,  two  galleys  appeared, 
ascending  the  river,  which  forthwith  began  a  most  destructive  fire 
upon  the  Hessian  encampment.  The  house  appeared  particularly 
exposed,  although  the  vessels  had  been  commanded  to  avoid  firing 
upon  it,  and  to  confine  their  attack  to  the  enemy's  encampment.  Of 
this  Mr.  Gibbs  was  not  aware,  and  with  the  permission  of  the  Eng 
lish  commander,  he  set  out,  although  suffering  acutely  from  an  in 
firmity,  and  with  his  numerous  family,  hastened  to  the  protection  of 
a  neighboring  plantation.  The  balls  were  falling  thick  and  fast, 
sometimes  scattering  dirt  and  sand  over  the  party,  while  their  loud 
whizzing,  mingled  with  the  fury  of  the  distant  affray,  rendered  the 
scene  one  of  danger  and  terror.  But  scarcely  had  they  proceeded 
so  far  as  to  be  out  of  danger  from  the  balls,  when  to  their  unuttera 
ble  agony  they  discovered,  that  in  the  confusion  and  hurry  of  depart 
ure,  an  infant  had  been  left  behind.  To  leave  the  child  alone  in  his 
danger  wns  impossible,  and  to  return  for  him  was  an  attempt  of  im 
minent  peril.  Mr.  Gibbs  was  suffering  under  an  infirmity  that  made 
his  movements  exceedingly  slow  and  painful,  and  therefore  it  was 
impracticable  for  him  to  return.  The  frightened  and  chattering  ser 
vants  stood  trembling  around,  looking  from  one  to  the  other  in  be 
wildering  despair.  Of  all  the  rest  of  the  party,  saving  Mrs.  Gibbs, 
who  was  severely  indisposed,  none  were  above  the  age  of  childhood. 
While  thus  undecided,  Miss  Mary  Ann  Gibbs,  but  thirteen  years  of 
age,  sprung  forward  and  heroically  offered  to  go  for  the  lad,  who  was 
a  sou.  of  Mrs.  Fenwick,  Mrs.  Gibbs'  sister-in-law.  The  night  was 
dark  and  stormy,  the  distance  considerable,  and  the  whole  space 
swept  by  the  cannon  of  the  assailants.  But  without  fear  she  retraced 
her  way,  and  reached  the  house  without  injury,  where  the  scene  was 
one  of  uumingled  terror.  Undismayed  by  the  thundering  of  the 
cannon,  the  crashing  of  the  balls,  the  shrieks,  shouts  and  imprecations 
of  the  combatants,  she  sprung  to  the  door  with  the  intention  of  en 
tering,  when  she  was  brutally  refused  by  the  sentinel..  But  tears, 
entreaties,  and  the  natural  eloquence  prompted  by  her  heroism  and 
the  high  purpose  on  which  she  was  bent,  overcame  his  opposition, 
and  she  was  permitted  to  enter.  With  rapid  steps  she  ascended  to 
208 


TECUMSEH    SAVING   THE    PRISONERS.  17 

Uhe  third  story,  and  finding  the  child  there  in  safety,  she  clasped  it 
to  her  bosom,  and  hastened  to  overtake  her  retreating  family,  her 
course,  as  before,  full  of  danger,  and  often  the  plowing  balls  would 
scatter  clouds  of  dust  over  her  person.  Uninjured,  her  perilous 
journey  was  performed,  and  when  she  reached  her  friends,  she  was 
welcomed  by  shouts  of  enthusiasm  and  admiration.  The  intrepid 
action,  worthy  of  an  adult,  and  all  glorious  in  a  child,  borrows  a 
fair  share  of  romance  by  the  reflection  that  the  child  thus  saved 
afterward  became  Lieutenant-Colonel  Fen  wick,  so  highly  dis 
tinguished  by  his  services  in  the  last  war  with  Great  Britain. 


TECUMSEH  SAYING  THE  PRISONERS. 

THE  siege  of  Fort  Meigs  during  the  war  of  1812,  by  a  combined 
British  and  Indian  force,  under  command  of  General  Proctor,  was 
attended  by  one  of  those  thrilling  incidents  which  chill  the  blood 
with  horror,  and  which  have  stained  the  escutcheon  of  Great  Britain 
with  indelible  infamy.  It  is  with  no  desire,  however,  to  harrow  up 
the  feelings  of  our  readers  at  a  tale  of  soul-sickening  massacre,  nor 
yet  with  a  wish  to  undertake  the  invidious  task  of  reprobating  the 
course  of  the  English  Government  in  connection  with  the  war,  that 
we  have  introduced  the  following  narrative  ;  but  simply  with  a  view 
of  presenting  the  character  of  that  brave  and  patriotic  chieftain,  Te- 
cumseh,  in  its  true  light  as  regarding  his  magnanimity,  and  freedom 
from  those  brutal  propensities  and  inclinations  which  have  conduced 
so  strongly  to  stigmatize  the  Indians  as  savages. 

The  fort  was  invested  on  the  26th  of  April,  and  from  that  period 
up  to  the  5th  of  May,  a  constant  fire  had  been  kept  up  by  the  British 
batteries  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  river,  without  serious  injury  to 
the  works.  General  Clay,  with  a  reinforcement  of  twelve  hundred 
Kentucky  militia,  arrived  in  the  neighborhood  on  the  4th,  and  received 
orders  to  detach  eight  hundred  men  to  attack  the  British  batteries 
while  the  remainder  was  to  aid  a  sortie  against  the  Indians,  who  had 
established  themselves  in  the  immediate  vicinity  of  the  fort,  and  who 
4  2  209 


18  TALES    AND    TRADITIONS. 

were  a  source  of  great  annoyance  to  its  garrison.  Colonel  Dudley 
was  placed  in  command  of  the  larger  party,  and,  agreeably  to  his  in 
structions,  landed  on  the  right  bank,  and  completely  succeeded  in 
driving  the  enemy  from  his  works,  and  in  spiking  the  cannon.  His 
orders  were  peremptory  to  return  immediately  to  his  boats  on  the  ac 
complishment  of  this  object,  and  repair  to  the  fort ;  but  his  men  had 
t:\sted  the  sweets  of  victory,  and  the  rashness  which  follows  success 
on  the  part  of  militia,  proved  their  ruin.  They  allowed  themselves 
to  be  amused  by  some  faint  attempt  at  resistance  on  the  part  of  a 
small  body  of  Indians  in  the  woods,  until  the  main  body  of  the 
British,  which  was  some  distance  in  the  rear,  could  be  brought  up, 
and  a  severe  and  bloody  action  soon  followed.  It  can  hardly  be 
called  an  action,  for  the  militia  were  in  detached  parties,  pursuing 
the  scattering  troops,  when  they  suddenly  found  themselves  confronted 
and  surrounded  by  a  force  double  their  number,  and  after  a  manly 
effort  to  retain  the  victory  they  had  won,  they  attempted  to  retreat 
but  found  themselves  cut  off  from  the  river  by  a  force  which  had  got 
into  their  rear,  to  whom  they  were  obliged  to  surrender  themselves 
prisoners  of  war.  Out  of  the  eight  hundred  who  landed  ia  the 
morning,  only  one  hundred  and  fifty  escaped  massacre  or  captivity. 
Colonel  Dudley  was  severely  wounded,  and  afterward  tomahawked 
and  scalped.  A  large  portion  of  the  prisoners  were  marched  to  the 
British  fort  lower  down  the  river,  where  they  immediately  became 
the  sport  and  prey  of  the  Indians,  who  commenced  an  indiscriminate 
slaughter  of  the  unarmed  men,  until  the  entreaties  of  some  of  the 
more  humane  British  officers  checked  it  for  a  time.  Another  party 
were  placed  in  charge  of  a  Sergeant  and  fifty  men  for  the  purpose 
of  being  embarked  in  the  gunboats,  where  it  was  supposed  they 
would  be  safe  from  the  attacks  of  the  infuriated  savages.  Upon 
reaching  the  encampment,  which  at  that  time  happened  to  be  deserted 
by  the  troops,  they  were  met  by  a  band  of  Indians  who  had  not  been 
.engaged  in  the  contest  at  all,  but,  actuated  by  a  brutal  thirst  for  blood, 
and  disappointed  at  not  having  a  share  of  the  plunder,  to  which  they 
thought  themselves  entitled,  they  determined  to  satisfy  their  desires 
by  murdering  and  stripping  the  prisoners  before  them.  Perhaps  they 
were  actuated  by  a  spirit  of  revenge  for  the  loss  which  had  been 
sustained  by  their  friends  in  the  action.  Be  this  as  it  may,  they 
210 


TECUMSKH    SAVING   THE   PRISONERS.  19 

each  selected  a  victim  from  the  ranks,  and  -with  fearful  yells  com 
menced  the  work  of  slaughter.  With  a  magnanimity  scarcely  to  be 
expected  of  men  who  had  witnessed  the  cold-blooded  murders  at  the 
river  Raisin,  the  British  guard  threw  themselves  between  the  savages 
and  their  intended  victims,  and  endeavored  to  dissuade,  and  then  to 
coerce  them  from  their  horrid  butchery.  But  in  vain.  Excited  to 
the  highest  pitch  of  ferocity  by  the  blood  they  had  already  shed, 
they  were  not  to  be  deterred  from  their  purpose  ;  and  the  soldiers- 
after  witnessing  the  death  of  one  of  their  number,  who  was  stabbed 
to  the  heart  by  a  savage  from  whom  he  had  snatched  a  prisoner- 
finding  their  interposition  to  be  fruitless,  withdrew  and  left  the  un 
fortunate  men  to  their  fate.  Surrounded  upon  all  sides  by  the  sav 
ages,  with  no  chance  of  escape,  with  none  to  interfere,  the  prisoners 
were  huddled  together ;  those  in  front  striving  to  screen  themselves 
behind  their  comrades ;  while  those  in  the  rear,  with  the  love  of  life 
urging  them  with  an  equal  force,  endeavored  to  keep  them  from  do 
ing  so,  they  surged  to  and  fro,  the  tomahawk  and  scalping-knife 
doing  its  work,  until  forty  of  their  number  lay  stiff  in  the  embrace 
of  death.  The  Sergeant  in  command  of  the  guard,  who  had  been 
forced  to  leave  their  charge  to  the  tender  mercies  of  the  savages, 
sought  for  Tecumseh,  and  informed  him  of  the  horrid  butchery 
which  was  being  enacted.  The  eyes  of  the  chieftain  lit  up  with  a 
consuming  blaze,  and  his  nostrils  dilated  and  contracted  as  his  breast 
heaved  with  the  mighty  passion  which  the  soldier's  story  had  roused 
within  him.  He  stopped  but  a  moment  to  hear  the  end,  and  then 
dashing  his  heels  against  his  horse's  sides,  he  darted  off  in  the  direc 
tion  of  the  scene.  Raising  his  voice  as  he  approached,  in  thunder- 
tones  he  commanded  the  Indians  to  desist  from  their  brutal  work. 
A  few,  startled  at  the  unexpected  interference,  drew  back  ;  but  the 
majority,  regardless  of  his  authority,  and  drunk  with  passion,  refused 
to  obey.  Precipitating  himself  between  these  and  their  prey,  he 
forced  them  back,  and,  drawing  his  tomahawk,  ho  whirled  it  over 
his  head,  while  his  face  was  wrought  into  an  expression  of  the  most 
fearful  and  scorching  rage,  as  he  threatened  to  cleave  to  tlie  earth  the 
first  one  who  offered  to  disobey  him.  This  was  effectual  with  some, 
but  there  were  still  a  few  who  continued  their  bloody  work,  and  one 
after  another  the  miserable  prisoners  were  falling,  like  sheep  In  the 

211 


20  TALES    AND    TRADITIONS. 

shambles,  before  the  unrelenting  knives  and  hatchets  of  their  exe 
cutioners.  None  but  a  man  destitute  of  fear  would  have  dared 
to  rush  between  these  and  their  victims.  It  was  tearing  the  carcass 
of  his  prey  from  the  jaws  of  the  lion  to  interfere  between  these  fe 
rocious  fiends  and  their  feast  of  blood.  But,  the  chief  knew  no 
fear:  he  was  wrought  to  such  a  fearful  state  of  excitement  as  not 
to  heed  the  dictates  of  prudence.  Leaping  from  his  horse  and  draw 
ing  his  knife,  he  threw  himself  upon  them  with  all  the  fury  of  a 
tigress  divested  of  her  young.  Seizing  one  by  the  throat,  and  another 
by  the  breast,  he  hurled  them  to  the  ground,  and  thus,  one  after 
another,  he  beat  them  back  with  a  strength  which  nothing  could 
withstand.  Taking  his  station  in  front  of  the  remnant  of  the  band 
which,  still  remained  alive,  and  raising  his  tomahawk  high  above  his 
head,  while  his  whole  figure  dilated  to  a  greater  height  by  the  pas 
sions  which  raged  within  his  bosom,  he  dared  them,  in  tones  which 
thrilled  through  them  like  electricity,  to  strike  another  blow.  None 
were  found  so  bold  as  to  tempt  his  arm  or  disobey  his  command,  and 
the  prisoners  were  saved.  Looking  around  for  Proctor,  he  espied 
him  as  he  approached,  and  demanded  why  he  had  not  stopped  the 
massacre.  "  Sir,"  said  he,  "  your  Indians  are  not  to  be  commanded." 
"  Begone  !"  replied  Tecumseh,  as  a  look  of  the  greatest  disdain  and 
contempt  swept  over  his  swarthy  visage,  "  you  are  unfit  to  command  ; 
go  and  put  on  petticoats  /" 

This  Proctor,  the  British  commander,  had  already  branded  himself 
•with  indelible  infamy  at  the  battle  of  the  River  Raisin,  in  January 
of  the  same  year.  In  reference  to  this  battle,  we  will  briefly  state 
the  object  of  General  Harrison's  campaign  was  to  take  Detroit,  and 
expel  the  British  from  the  territory  of  the  United  States— and  to 
protect  the  extensive  frontier  ;  also  to  furnish  such  protection  as  was 
possible  to  the  settlers  in  Ohio,  Indiana,  etc.,  from  the  savages  in  the 
pay  of  the  British.  The  points  to  be  defended  were  scattered  over 
a  vast  region  of  country  ;  and  though  the  care  of  it  fell  upon  Gen 
eral  Harrison,  officers  in  the  different  sections  were  frequently  obliged 
to  act  for  themselves.  It  was  thus  that  General  Winchester,  failing 
to  receive  counter-orders  sent  after  him  by  Harrison,  and  unaware 
of  the  full  force  of  the  enemy,  was  induced  to  make  an  imprudent, 
though  brave,  movement  against  a  body  of  English  and  Indians  who 
212 


THE   BATTLE    OP   FRENCHTOWN.  81 

were  coming  from  Maiden  and  the  Raisin  to  attack  his  camp  at  the 
rapids. 

He  pressed  forward  and  found  the  enemy  prepared  to  meet  him 
at  Frenchtown  ;  they  were  posted  among  Hie  houses,  but  were  soon 
dislodged  and  driven  to  the  woods.  Here  a  short,  desperate  engage 
ment  took  place,  and  the  English  were  driven  two  miles  before  the 
continual  charge  of  the  brave  Kentuckians,  though  the  latter  had 
made  that  day  a  forced  inarch  of  over  eighteen  miles  over  ice.  In 
reporting  the  action,  afterward,  General  Harrison  said  :  "  The  troops 
amply  sustained  the  double  character  of  Americans  and  Kentuckians." 

Thus  far  our  heroes  were  successful ;  instead  of  retiring  after  this 
brilliant  affair,  they  determined  to  maintain  their  position ;  they 
remained  in  Frenchtown  two  or  three  days,  part  of  their  forces 
being  exposed  in  an  open  field,  and  a  part  sheltered  by  the  garden 
pickets  of  the  town.  During  the  night  of  the  21st  of  January,  the 
British  came  up,  unobserved,  and  at  daylight  fired  bombs,  balls  and 
grape-shot  from  heavy  pieces  of  artillery,  at  a  distance  of  only  three 
hundred  yards.  The  troops  in  the  open  field  were  sadly  injured  by 
this  fire,  and  soon  fled  across  the  river  in  the  utmost  confusion. 
The  Indians  gained  our  flank  and  rear,  butchering  our  soldiers 
shockingly.  General  Winchester  was  taken  prisoner  and  marched 
to  the  British  camp.  Colonel  Lewis  still  maintained  his  position  in 
the  town,  frequently  repulsing  the  enemy,  until  the  Indians  gained 
his  flank,  when  a  general  and  indiscriminate  massacre  ensued. 
Colonel  Lewis  was  made  a  prisoner,  had  his  coat  stripped  off,  and 
was  conducted  to  the  enemy's  camp.  Colonel  Allen,  being  badly 
wounded,  surrendered  to  an  Indian.  Another  assailed  him,  whom 
Allen  struck  dead  at  his  feet,  and  was  in  turn  shot  down  by  a  third 
savage.  Garrett,  with  fifteen  or  twenty  men,  surrendered,  and  all 
but  himself  were  butchered  on  .the  spot. 

Two  other  officers,  Graves  and  Madison,  still  maintained  their 
position  within  the  picketing,  and  with  their  troops,  behaved  most 
gallantly.  The  former  being  severely  wounded,  and  as  he  sat  down, 
wiping  the  blood  from  his  wounds,  cried :  "  Never  mind  me,  my 
boys,  fight  on  !"  Proctor,  with  all  his  British  regulars  and  savage 
allies,  could  not  subdue  this  band — they  gave  not  an  inch  to  the  foe. 

A  flag  was  at  last  sent  to  Madison,  with  an  order  from  Winchester 

213 


22  TALES   AND   TRADITIONS. 

to  sunender.  Proctor  accompanied  the  flag,  and  made  the  demand, 
but  Major  Madison  replied  that  he  would  not  surrender  unless  the 
safety  of  his  men  could  be  guaranteed.  Proctor  demanded : 

"  Sir,  do  you  mean  to  dictate  to  me  ?" 

"  No,"  returned  the  intrepid  Major,  "  I  intend  to  dictate  for  my 
self;  and  we  prefer  selling  our  lives  as  dearly  us  possible,  rather 
than  be  massacred  in  cold  Wood." 

The  surrender  was  made  on  express  conditions,  that  the  officers 
should  retain  their  side  arms,  the  sick  and  wounded  to  be  carefully 
removed,  private  property  to  be  respected,  and  the  prisoners  pro 
tected  by  a  guard.  Proctor  disregarded  all  stipulations,  and  handed 
over  the  prisoners  to  the  Indians,  who  butchered  them  without 
mercy.  Some  of  their  bodies  were  thrown  into  the  flames  of  the 
burning  village,  while  others,  shockingly  mangled,  were  left  exposed 
in  the  streets.  These  awful  deeds  were  continued  for  several  clays. 

For  the  massacre  of  the  River  Raisin,  in  return  for  which  any 
other  civilized  government  would  have  dismissed,  if  not  gibbeted, 
the  commander,  Colonel  Proctor  received  the  rank  of  Major-General 
in  the  British  army.  This  infamous  officer  it  was  who  shortly  after 
commenced  the  siege  of  Fort  Meigs,  his  mind  filled  with  visions  of 
conquest,  personal  glory  and  official  promotion.  He  was  assisted 
by  Tecumseh,  with  fifteen  hundred  of  his  warriors ;  but  even  the 
Indian  nature  revolted  at  the  more  savage  deeds  of  the  English 
General.  From  this  siege  of  Fort  Meigs  Proctor  was  obliged  to 
retreat  toward  Maiden  in  disgrace  and  confusion. 

In  the  May  following,  however,  Proctor,  thinking  to  surprise  Fort 
Meigs,  made  a  second  attack  upon  it  with  a  large  force  of  British 
regulars  and  Canadians,  and  several  thousand  Indians  under  Tecum 
seh,  but  was  again  obliged  to  retreat  in  disgrace. 

On  the  first  day  of  August,  General  Proctor  appeared  with  five 
hundred  regulars,  and  about  eight  hundred  Indians  of  the  most 
ferocious  kind,  before  fort  Stephenson,  twenty  miles  above  the  mouth 
of  the  river  Sandusky.  There  were  not  more  than  one  hundred 
and  thirty-three  effective  men  in  the  garrison,  and  the  works  covered 
one  acre  of  ground ;  it  was  a  mere  outpost  of  little  importance ;  and 
General  Harrison,  acting  with  the  unanimous  advice  of  his  council 
of  war,  had  sent  orders  to  Major  Croghan,  who  commanded  the 
214 


THE  ATTACK  ON  FORT  8TEPHENSON.  23 

garrison,  to  evacuate  the  fort,  and  make  good  his  retreat  to  head 
quarters,  provided  the  enemy  should  approach  the  place  with  artillery, 
and  a  retreat  be  practicable.  But  the  first  step  taken  by  Proctor 
was  to  isolate  the  fort  by  a  cordon  of  Indians,  thus  leaving  to  Major 
Croghan  no  choice  but  between  resistance  and  submission.  A  mes 
senger  was  sent  to  demand  the  surrender  of  the  fort.  He  was  met, 
by  Ensign  Shipp,  to  whom  the  messenger  observed  that  General 
Proctor  had  a  considerable  body  of  regular  troops,  and  a  great  many 
Indians,  whom  it  was  impossible  to  control,  and  if  the  fort  was  taken 
by  force,  he  must  expect  that  the  mildest  instruments  made  use  of 
would  be  the  tomahawk  and  seal  ping-knife  !  Shipp  replied,  that  it 
•was  the  commander's  intention  to  defend  the  garrison  or  be  buried 
in  it,  and  that  they  might  do  their  worst.  The  messenger,  startled 
at  the  reply  of  Shipp,  again  addressed  him :  "  You  are  a  fine  young 
man.  I  pity  your  situation.  For  God's  sake  surrender,  and  prevent 
the  dreadful  slaughter  which  must  inevitably  follow  resistance." 
The  gallant  Shipp  turned  from  him  with  indignation,  and  was  imme 
diately  seized  by  a  frightful-looking  savage,  who  attempted  to  wrest 
his  sword  from  him,  but  the  Ensign  was  fortunately  too  quick  for 
him,  and  buried  the  blade  to  the  hilt  in  his  body,  and  succeeded  in 
reaching  the  fort  in  safety.  The  attack  now  commenced.  About 
four  P.  M.,  all  the  enemy's  guns  were  concentrated  against  the  north 
western  angle  of  the  fort,  for  the  purpose  of  making  a  breach.  To 
counteract  the  effect  of  their  fire,  the  commander  caused  that  point 
to  be  strengthened  by  means  of  bags  of  flour,  sand  and  other  mate 
rials,  in  such  a  manner  that  the  balls  of  the  enemy  did  but  little 
injury.  But  the  enemy,  supposing  that  their  fire  had  sufficiently 
shattered  the  pickets,  advanced,  to  the  number  of  six  hundred,  to 
storm  the  place,  the  Indians  shouting  in  their  usual  manner.  As 
soon  as  the  ditch  was  pretty  well  filled  with  the  copper-colored 
assailants,  the  commander  of  the  fort  ordered  a  six-pounder,  which 
had  been  masked  in  the  block-house,  to  be  discharged.  It  had  been 
loaded  with  a  double  charge  of  musket-balls  and  slugs.  The  piece 
completely  raked  the  ditch  from  end  to  end.  The  yell  of  the 
savages  was  at  this  instant  horrible.  The  first  fire  leveled  the  one 
half  in  death ;  the  second  and  third  either  killed  or  wounded  all 
except  eleven,  who  were  covered  by  the  dead  bodies.  The  Americans 

215 


24  TALES    AND    TRADITIONS. 

had  but  one  killed,  and  seven  slightly  wounded.  Early  the 
ensuing  morning  the  few  regulars  and  Indians  that  survived  retreated 
down  the  river,  abandoning  all  their  baggage. 

The  time  was  now  at  hand  when  General  Harrison  and  his  army 
were  to  reach  the  full  completion  of  all  the  contemplated  objects  of 
the  expedition. 

Among  the  earliest  recommendations  of  General  Harrison  to  the 
Government  the  year  before,  and  immediately  after  he  commenced 
operations,  had  been  that  of  constructing  and  equipping  a  naval 
armament  on  the  lakes.  In  one  letter  he  says :  "  Admitting  that 
Maiden  and  Detroit  are  both  taken,  Mackinaw  and  St.  Joseph  will 
both  remain  in  the  hands  of  the  enemy  until  we  can  create  a  force 
capable  of  contending  with  the  vessels  which  the  British  have  in 
Lake  Michigan,"  etc.  And  again,  in  another  letter :  "  Should  any 
offensive  operation  be  suspended  until  spring,  it  is  my  decided 
opinion  that  the  cheapest  and  most  effectual  plan  will  be  to  obtain 
command  of  Lake  Erie.  This  being  once  effected,  every  difficulty 
will  be  removed.  An  army  of  four  thousand  men,  landed  on  the 
north  side  of  the  lake,  below  Maiden,  will  reduce  that  place,  retake 
Detroit,  and,  with  the  aid  of  the  fleet,  proceed  down  the  lake  to 
cooperate  with  the  army  from  Niagara."  These  sagacious  instruc 
tions,  being  repeatedly  and  strenuously  urged  by  him,  and  reinforced 
also  from  other  quarters,  were  adopted  and  acted  upon  by  the 
Government.  Commodore  Perry  was  commissioned  to  build,  equip 
and  command  the  contemplated  fleet ;  and,  on  the  10th  of  September, 
with  an  inferior  force,  he  met  the  enemy,  and  gained  the  brilliant 
victory  of  Lake  Erie. 

Meanwhile,  Colonel  Richard  M.  Johnson,  then  a  member  of  Con 
gress  from  Kentucky,  had  devised  the  organization  of  two  regiments  of 
mounted  militia,  which  he  was  authorized  by  the  Government  to 
raise,  as  well  for  service  against  the  Indians,  as  to  cooperate  witli 
Harrison.  Colonel  Johnson  crossed  the  country  of  Lower  Sandusky, 
where  he  received  orders  from  the  war  department  to  proceed  to 
Kaskaskia,  to  operate  in  that  quarter ;  but,  by  the  interference  of 
Harrison,  and  at  the  urgent  request  of  Colonel  Johnson,  who  said, 
for  himself  and  his  men,  that  the  first  object  of  their  hearts  was  to 
accompany  Harrison  to  Detroit  and  Canada,  and  to  partake  in  the 
210 


HARRISON'S  INVASION  OP  CANADA.  27 

danger  and  honor  of  that  expedition,  under  an  officer  in  whom  they 
had  confidence,  and  who  had  approved  himself  "  to  be  wise,  prudent, 
and  brave," — the  orders  of  the  department  were  countermanded,  and 
Colonel  Johnson  attained  his  wish. 

General  Harrison  now  prepared  to  strike  the  great  blow.  Aided 
by  the  energetic  efforts  of  Governor  Meigs,  of  Ohio,  and  Governor 
Shelby,  of  Kentucky,  he  had  ready  on  the  southern  shore  of  Lake 
Erie,  by  the  middle  of  September,  a  competent  force,  destined  for 
the  immediate  invasion  of  Canada.  Between  the  16th  and  the  24th 
of  Ssptember,  the  artillery,  military  stores,  provisions,  and  troops, 
were  gradually  embarked,  and  on  the  27th  the  whole  army  proceeded 
to  the  Canada  shore.  »  "  Remember  the  river  Itaisin,"  said  General 
Harrison,  in  his  address  to  the  troops,  "  but  remember  it  only  while 
victory  is  suspended.  The  revenge  of  a  soldier  can  not  be  gratified 
on  a  fallen  enemy."  The  army  landed  in  high  spirits ;  but  the  en 
emy  had  abandoned  his  stronghold,  and  retreated  to  Sandwich, 
after  dismantling  Maiden,  burning  the  barracks  and  navy-yard,  and 
stripping  the  adjacent  country  of  horses  and  cattle.  General  Har 
rison  encamped  that  night  on  the  ruins  of  Maiden. 

On  the  2cl  of  October,  arrangements  were  made  for  pursuing  the 
retreating  enemy  up  the  Thames.  The  army  was  put  in  motion  on 
the  morning  of  the  4th.  General  Harrison  accompanied  Colonel 
Johnson,  and  was  followed  by  Governor  Shelby  with  the  infantry. 
Having  passed  the  ground  where  the  enemy  had  encamped  the  night 
before,  the  General  directed  the  advance  of  Colonel  Johnson's  regi 
ment  to  accelerate  their  march,  for  the  purpose  of  ascertaining  the 
distance  of  the  enemy. 

The  troops  had  now  advanced  within  three  miles  of  the  Moravian 
town,  and  within  one  mile  of  the  enemy.  Across  a  narrow  strip  of 
land,  near  an  Indian  village,  the  enemy  were  drawn  up  in  line  of 
battle,  to  prevent  the  advance  of  the  American  troops.  The  British 
troops  amounted  to  six  hundred,  the  Indians  to  more  than  twelve 
hundred.  About  one  hundred  and  fifty  regulars,  under  Colonel 
Ball,  were  ordered  to  advance  and  amuse  the  enemy,  and,  should  a 
favorable  opportunity  present,  to  seize  his  cannon.  A  small  party 
of  friendly  Indians  were  directed  to  move  under  the  bank.  The  re 
giment  of  Colonel  Johnson  was  drawn  up  in  close  column,  with  its 

219 


28  TALES    AND    TRADITIONS. 

right  a  few  yards  distant  from  the  road.  General  Desha's  division 
covered  the  left  of  Johnson's  regiment.  General  Cass  and  Commo 
dore  Perry  volunteered  as  aids  to  General  Harrison. 

On  the  5th,  the  enemy  was  discovered  in  a  position  skillfully 
chosen,  in  relation  as  well  to  local  circumstances  as  to  the  character 
of  his  troops.  A  narrow  strip  of  dry  laud,  flanked  by  the  river 
Thames  on  the  left  and  by  a  swamp  on  the  right,  was  occupied  by 
his  regular  infantry  and  artillery,  while  on  the  right  flank  lay  Tecum- 
seh  and  his  followers,  on  the  eastern  margin  of  the  swamp.  But, 
notwithstanding  the  judicious  choice  of  the  ground,  Proctor  had 
committed  the  error  of  forming  his  infantry  in  open  order.  Availing 
himself  of  this  fact,  and  aware  that  troops  so  disposed  could  not  re 
sist  a  charge  of  mounted  men,  he  directed  Colonel  Johnson  to  dash 
through  the  enemy's  line  in  column.  The  movement  was  made  with 
brilliant  success. 

The  mounted  men  charged  with  promptitude  and  vigor,  broke 
through  the  line  of  the  enemy,  formed  in  the  rear,  and  assailed  the 
broken  line  with  a  success  seldom  equaled,  for  nearly  the  whole 
of  the  British  regular  force  was  either  killed,  wounded,  or  taken  pris 
oners. 

On  the  left  the  contest  was  much  more  serious.  Colonel  John 
son's  regiment,  being  there  stationed,  received  a  galling  fire  from  the 
Indians,  who  seemed  not  disposed  to  give  ground.  The  Colonel 
gallantly  led  his  men  into  the  midst  of  them,  and  was  personally  at 
tacked  by  a  chief,  whom  he  dispatched  with  his  cutlass  th'e  moment 
the  former  was  aiming  a  blow  at  him  with  his  tomahawk.  The  sav 
ages,  finding  the  fire  of  the  troops  too  warm  for  them,  fled  across  the 
hills  and  attempted  to  seek  shelter  in  a  piece  of  woods  on  the  left, 
where  they  were  closely  pursued  by  the  cavalry.  At  the  margin  of 
the  wood  Tecumseh  stationed  himself,  armed  with  a  spear,  tomahawk, 
&c.,  endeavoring  to  rally  and  persuade  his  men  to  return  to  the  at 
tack.  At  this  point  a  considerable  bod}'  of  Indians  had  collected  ; 
but  this  brave  savage  saw  that  the  fortune  of  the  day  was  against 
him,  and  the  battle  was  lost.  Proctor  had  cowardly  fled  from  the 
field,  and  left  him  and  his  warriors  alone  to  sustain  themselves 
against  a  far  superior  force ;  and  he  knew  that  there  was  no  chance 
of  contending  with  any  hope  of  success.  He  therefore  stood,  like 
220 


DEATH   OF    TECUMSEH.  29 

a  true  hero,  disdaining  to  fly,  and  was,  with  many  of  his  bravest 
warriors  around  him,  shot  down  by  the  Kentucky  riflemen.  It  has 
been  published  to  the  world,  and  by  many  believed,  that  this  distin 
guished  warrior  was  killed  by  a  pistol-shot  from  Colonel  Johns*  n  ; 
but  this  is  undoubtedly  a  mistake,  which  probably  originated  from 
the  circumstance  of  the  Colonel's  having  killed  a  chief  by  whom  he 
Avas  attacked,  as  has  before  been  related.  That  he  fell  by  a  rifle 
shot,  there  can  be  no  doubt ;  but  by  whom  fired,  it  was  not  certainly 
known,  or  probably  never  can  be  satisfactorily  proved.  No  less  than 
six  of  the  riflemen  and  twenty-two  Indians  fell  within  twenty-five 
yards  of  the  spot  where  Tecumseh  was  killed. 

The  Indians  continued  a  brisk  fire  from  the  margin  of  the  wood 
until  a  fresh  regiment  was  called  into  action  to  oppose  them.  A 
company  of  cavalry  having  crossed  the  hills  and  gained  the  rear  of 
the  savages,  the  rout  became  general.  They  fought  bravely,  and 
sustained  a  heavy  loss  in  killed  and  wounded.  The  death  of  their 
leader,  Tecumseh,  was  an  irreparable  loss  to  them. 

Tecumseh  was  the  most  extraordinary  Indian  that  has  ever  ap 
peared  iii  history.  He  was  by  birth  a  Shawanese,  and  would  have 
been  a  great  man  in  any  age  or  nation.  Independent  of  the  most 
consummate  courage  and  skill  as  a  warrior,  and  all  the  characteristic 
acuteness  of  his  race,  he  was  endowed  by  nature  with  the  attributes 
of  mind  necessary  for  great  political  combinations.  His  acute  un 
derstanding,  very  early  in  life,  informed  him  that  his  countrymen 
had  lost  their  importance ;  that  they  were  gradually  yielding  to  the 
whites,  who  were  acquiring  an  imposing  influence  over  them.  In 
stigated  by  these  considerations,  and,  perhaps,  by  his  natural  ferocity 
and  attachment  to  war,  he  became  a  decided  enemy  to  the  whites, 
and  imbibed  an  invincible  determination  (he  surrendered  it  with  his 
life)  to  regain  for  his  country  the  proud  independence  which  he  sup 
posed  she  had  lost.  For  a  number  of  years  he  was  foremost  in  every 
act  of  hostility  committed  against  those  he  conceived  the  oppressors 
of  his  countrymen,  and  was  equally  remarkable  for  intrepidity  as 
skill,  in  many  combats  that  took  place  under  his  banner.  Aware,  at 
length,  of  the  extent,  number,  and  power  of  the  United  States,  he 
became  fully  convinced  of  the  futility  of  any  single  nation  of  red- 
men  attempting  to  cope  with  them.  He  formed,  therefore,  the 

221 


30  TALES   AND    TRADITIONS. 

grand  scheme  of  uniting  all  the  tribes  east  of  the  Mississippi  into 
hostility  against  the  United  States.  This  was  a  field  worthy  of  his 
great  and  enterprising  genius.  He  commenced  in  the  year  1809  ; 
and  in  the  execution  of  his  project  he  displayed  an  unequaled 
adroitness,  eloquence,  and  courage.  He  insinuated  himself  into  every 
tribe,  from  Michilimackinack  to  Georgia,  and  was  invariably  success 
ful  in  his  attempts  to  bring  them  over  to  his  views. 

The  following  characteristic  circumstance  occurred  at  one  of  the 
meetings  at  Yincennes.  After  Tecumseh  had  made  a  speech  to 
General  Harrison,  and  was  about  to  seat  himself  in  a  chair,  he  ob 
served  that  none  had  been  placed  for  him.  One  was  immediately 
ordered  by  the  Governor,  and,  as  the  interpreter  handed  it  to  him, 
he  said,  "  Your  father  requests  you  to  take  a  chair."  "  My  father!" 
said  Tecumseh,  with  an  indignant  expression ;  "  the  sun  is  my  father, 
and  tJie  earth  is  my  mother,  and  on  her  bosom  will  I  repose"  and  im 
mediately  seated  himself,  in  the  Indian  fashion,  upon  the  ground. 

Tecumseh  was  born  about  1770,  and  was  supposed  to  be  in  his 
forty-fourth  year  at  the  time  of  his  death.  He  received  the  commis. 
sion  of  Brigadier-General  in  the  British  army ;  but  aversion  to  civili 
zation  was  a  prominent  trait  in  his  character,  and  it  is  not  supposed 
that  he  received  the  red  sash  and  other  badges  of  office,  because  ho 
was  fond  of  imitating  the  whites,  but  only  as  a  means  of  inspiring 
respect  and  veneration  among  his  own  people,  which  was  so  neces 
sary  in  the  work  he  had  undertaken.  He  was  about  five  feet  ten 
inches  in  height,  of  a  noble  appearance,  and  a  perfectly  symmetrical 
form.  His  carriage  was  erect  and  lofty,  his  motions  quick,  his  eyes 
penetrating,  his  visage  stern,  with  an  air  of  hauteur  in  his  counte 
nance,  which  arose  from  an  elevated  pride  of  soul.  It  did  not  leave 
him,  even  in  death.  Had  he  not  possessed  a  certain  austerity  of 
manners,  he  could  never  have  controlled  the  passions  of  those  whom 
he  had  led  to  battle.  The  Indians  are  usually  fond  of  gaudy  deco 
rations  ;  but  Tecumseh  was  an  exception.  Clothes  and  other  valu 
able  articles  of  spoil  frequently  fell  into  his  possession ;  yet  he  inva 
riably  wore  a  deerskin  coat  and  pantaloons.  He  had  frequently  levied 
subsidies,  to  a  comparatively  large,  amount ;  yet  he  retained  little  or 
nothing  for  himself.  It  was  not  wealth,  but  glory,  that  was  his  ruling 
passion. 

222 

' 


HORSEWHIPPING    A   TYRANT.  81 

Previously  to  General  Brock's  crossing  over  to  Detroit,  he  asked 
Tecumseh  what  sort  of  a  country  he  should  have  to  pass  through  in 
case  of  his  proceeding  farther.  Tecurnseh,  taking  a  roll  of  elm-bark, 
and  extending  it  upon  the  ground,  by  means  of  four  stones,  drew 
forth  his  scalping-knife  and  with  the  point  sketched  upon  the  bark  a 
plan  of  the  country  :  its  hills,  woods,  rivers,  morasses  and  roads;  a 
plan,  which,  if  not  as  neat,  was  for  the  purpose  fully  as  intelligible 
as  if  Arrowsmith  himself  had  prepared  it.  Pleased  with  this  unex 
pected  talent  in  Tecumseh,  as  also  with  his  having  induced  the  In 
dians  not  of  his  immediate  party  to  cross  the  Detroit,  prior  to  the 
departure  of  the  regulars  and  militia,  General  Brock,  as  soon  as  busi 
ness  was  over,  publicly  took  off  his  sash  and  placed  it  around  the 
body  of  the  chief.  Tecumseh  received  the  honor  with  evident  grati 
fication,  but  was,  the  next  day,  seen  without  his  sash.  General 
Brock,  fearing  something  had  displeased  the  Indian,  sent  his  inter 
preter  for  an  explanation  ;  who  soon  returned  with  an  account  that 
Tecumseh,  not  wishing  to  wear  such  a  mark  of  distinction,  when  an 
older,  and,  as  he  said,  abler,  warrior  was  present,  had  transferred  the 
sash  to  the  Wyandot  chief,  Roundhead. 


HORSEWHIPPING  A  TYRANT. 

GENERAL  PRESCOTT,  the  commander  of  the  British  troops  in  Rhode 
Island,  was  one  of  those  mean-spirited,  petty  tyrants,  who,  when  in 
power,  exercise  their  ingenuity  in  devising  means  of  harassing  all 
who  have  the  misfortune  to  be  subject  to  their  authority ;  but,  when 
circumstances  place  them  in  the  power  of  others,  are  the  most  con 
temptible  sycophants  and  parasites.  Narrow-minded  in  the  extreme, 
with  a  heart  which  had  not  one  benevolent  impulse,  he  was  far  from 
being  a  fit  officer  to  be  placed  in  authority  over  the  people  of  Rhode 
Island,  who  could  be  more  easily  conquered  by  lenient  measures  than 
by  the  use  of  unnecessary  harshness.  From  the  first  day  of  his  power 
he  pursued  a  system  of  pitiless  tyranny.  Writhing  under  a  sense  of 
wrongs,  maddened  to  desperation  by  the  meanness  and  malignity  of 

223 


33  TALKS   AND   TRADITIONS. 

their  oppressor,  the  people  of  the  Island  resolved  to  rid  themselves 
of  the  cause,  no  matter  at  what  risk  or  sacrifice.  Various  plans  were 
suggested,  and  even  assassination  was  hinted  at.  His  harsh  treatment 
of  Colonel  Ethan  Allen,  a  prisoner  in  his  hands,  combined  with  his 
haughty  and  arrogant  conduct  toward  all,  increased  the  feeling  against 
him.  To  add  to  all  this,  General  Lee  was  a  prisoner  in  the  British 
jail,  and  confined  in  a  cell  under  the  pretense  that  he  w#s  a  deserter, 
having  once  been  an  officer  in  the  British  army ;  Washington  had  no 
prisoner  of  equal  rank  to  offer  in  exchange. 

If  the  capture  of  Prescott  could  be  effected,  it  would  not  only  rid 
the  Rhode  Islanders  of  his  hated  rule,  but  would  afford  an  officer  to 
be  exchanged  for  General  Lee,  whom  Washington  was  most  anxious 
to  rescue.  Under  these  circumstances,  many  enterprises  were  pro 
jected  ;  but  it  was  reserved  for  Lieutenant-Colonel  Barton,  of  the 
Rhode  Island  line,  to  successfully  plan  and  accomplish  the  much- 
desired  object.  He  was  stationed  with  a  force  of  militia  on  the 
main-land,  when  he  received  word  that  Prescott  was  quartered  at  a 
country-house  near  the  western  shore  of  the  Island,  about  four  miles 
from  Newport,  totally  unconscious  of  danger,  though  in  a  very  ex 
posed  situation.  Conceiving  this  to  be  the  favorable  opportunity 
Barton  beg-in  to  prepare  for  the  execution  of  his  bold  design.  The 
enterprise  proposed  was  bold  and  hazardous,  and  its  failure  would  be 
sure  to  bring  upon  him  the  charge  of  being  rash  and  foolhardy  ;  but 
then,  if  successful,  an  honorable  renown  would  be  the  reward  of 
those  concerned. 

He  communicated  his  design  to  Colonel  Horton,  his  superior  offi 
cer,  who  gave  it  his  commendation,  and  permitted  him  to  select  from 
his  regiment  such  men  and  officers  as  he  desired  to  assist  him  in  the 
plot.  From  an  apprehension  that  his  plans  might  become  known  to 
the  enemy,  he  did  not  make  a  selection  of  the  necessary  number  of 
men  until  the  last  moment,  and  then,  with  a  desire  that  he  might 
be  accompanied  only  by  volunteers,  he  ordered  his  whole  company 
upon  parade,  and  in  a  brief  speech  stated  that  he  wished  to  obtain 
forty  volunteers  for  an  expedition  of  great  hazard,  and  all  that  wished 
to  accompany  him,  should  signify  it  by  stepping  from  the  ranks. 
Without  one  exception,  the  whole  regiment  advanced.  He  now 
found  it  necessary  to  make  the  selection  himself,  and  he  did  so, 
224 


CAPTURE    OF    GENERAL    PRESCOTT.  83 

choosing  those  whose  courage  and  fidelity  were  tested.  Several  offi 
cers  had  personally  volunteered,  but  not  one  of  the  party  besides 
Barton  himself,  knew  of  the  object  in  view,  but  all  trusted  to  the 
honor  and  courage  of  their  leader. 

Some  delay  w'?is  experienced  in  procuring  boats,  but  on  the  4th 
of  July,  1777,  they  embarked  from  Tiverton  for  Bristol.  In  crossing 
Mount  Hope  Bay,  they  suffered  from  a  severe  storm,  but  they  arrived 
at  Bristol  at  midnight.  On  the  morning  of  the  5th,  the  Major,  with 
his  officers,  went  over  to  Hog  Island  for  the  purpose  of  reconnoiter- 
ing  the  position  of  the  enemy.  Here  he  revealed  the  object  of  the 
expedition,  and  his  plan  for  its  accomplishment. 

It  was  not  until  the  evening  of  the  5th,  that  the  party  again  em 
barked.  Crossing  Narragausett  Bay,  they  landed  on  Warwick  "N"eck, 
but  were  here  detained  by  a  severe  storm  which  retarded  their  plans 
considerably.  On  the  9th,  however,  it  became  clear,  and  they  pre 
pared  once  more  to  sail,  with  the  intention  of  proceeding  directly  to 
Rhode  Island.  Some  hours  after  the  set  of  sun,  all  was  still,  and 
the  darkness  affording  them  a  protection  from  observation,  the  little 
squadron  shot  out  from  the  land,  and  proceeded  noiselessly  and  cau 
tiously  on  its  course.  This  was  a  very  hazardous  part  of  the  enter 
prise,  as  there  was  great  danger  of  being  discovered  by  some  of  the 
ships  of  war  that  lay  near  the  shore.  Cautiously  gliding  along  be 
tween  the  islands  of  Prudence  and  Patience,  by  which  means  they 
were  secured  from  observation  from  the  enemy's  shipping  that  lay  off 
by  Hope  Island,  they  advanced  rapidly  to  their  destination.  While 
passing  the  north  end  of  Prudence  Island,  they  could  distinctly  hear 
the  sentinels  from  the  ships,  cry  out,  "  All's  well."  The  night  was 
one  of  excessive  darkness,  and  this  fortunate  circumstance,  no  doubt, 
contributed  largely  to  the  success  of  the  plan. 

The  landing  was  effected  without  difficulty.  In  order  to  secure 
a  rapid  retreat,  one  man  was  commanded  to  remain  in  each  boat, 
and  instructed  to  be  ready  for  departing  at  a  moment's  notice.  When 
all  were  on  shore,  the  requisite  instructions  were  given,  and  the  party 
advanced  rapidly  in  the  direction  of  General  Prescott's  head-quarters. 
The  difficulties  of  Major  Barton's  situation  will  be  readily  appreciated. 
Even  should  he  surprise  General  Prescott,  a  very  few  moments  would 
suffice  for  an  alarm  to  be  carried  to  the  enemy,  and  if  SQ\  the  whole 

225 


34  TALES   AND    TRADITIONS. 

British  army  would  be  upon  them  before  they  could  get  to  their  forts. 
Or,  eveu  should  they  reach  their  boats,  if  an  alarm  was  conveyed  to 
the  enemy's  shipping,  their  retreat  would,  with  certainty,  be  cut  off. 
It  was,  therefore,  necessary  to  proceed  with  thqpatmost  caution  and 
care ;  and  to  act  with  equal  daring,  prudence,  and  celerity. 

The  distance  to  the  residence  of  the  English  General  was  about 
a  mile.  The  party  was  divided  into  five  divisions  :  one  to  approach 
the  door  on  the  south  side,  another  one  on  the  east,  and  a  third  on 
the  west  side,  there  being  three  doors  to  the  house,  while  the  fourth 
division  was  to  guard  the  road,  and  the  fifth  to  be  ready  to  act  on 
emergencies.  'They  were  obliged,  in  order  to  reach  the  house,  to 
pass  the  guard-house  of  the  enemy,  on  the  left,  and  on  their  right  a 
house  occupied  by  a  company  of  cavalry.  On  arriving  at  Prescott's 
head-quarters,  they  were  challenged  by  a  sentinel  who  was  stationed  at 
the  gate  of  the  front  yard.  The  darkness  of  the  night  prevented 
him  from  determining  the  nature  of  the  party  approaching,  but,  as 
they  continued  to  advance  in  silence,  he  again  challenged  them,  de 
manding  : 

"  Who  goes  there  ?" 

"  Friends,"  said  Barton. 

"  Advance  and  give  the  countersign,"  was  the  rejoinder. 

"  Pho !"  replied  Barton,  as  he  continued  to  advance  close  to  the 
person  of  the  sentinel,  "  we  have  no  countersign — have  you  seen  any 
rascals  to  night  ?" 

Almost  simultaneous  with  this  remark,  Barton  suddenly  seized  the 
musket  of  the  sentinel,  and  charged  him  to  make  no  noise  on  the 
penalty  of  instant  death.  So  much  had  been  accomplished  in  perfect 
silence.  The  divisions  rapidly  advanced  to  their  respective  positions, 
while  Barton  questioned  the  bewildered  and  terrified  sentinel,  as  to 
whether  the  General  was  in  the  house,  who  replied  that  he  was. 
The  signal  was  now  given,  and  in  an  instant  the  south  door  was 
burst  open,  and  the  division  there  stationed  rushed  into  the  building, 
followed  by  the  Major. 

The  first  person  Barton   met  was  Mr.  Perwig,  who  denied  that 

General  Prescott  was  in  the  house,  and  his  son  also  obstinately  denied 

the  presence  of  the  English  officer.     Not  being  able  to  find  him  in 

their  rapid  search  through  the  apartments,  Barton  now  had  resort  to 

220 


THE    TYRANT    CAUGHT.  85 

stratagem.  In  a  loud  voice,  lie  declared  his  intention  of  capturing 
the  General  dead  or  alive,  and  ordered  his  soldiers  immediately  to 
set  fire  to  the  house.  At  this  juncture,  a  voice  which  Barton  sus 
pected  to  belong  to  the  General,  inquired  the  cause  of  the  disturbance. 
Barton  rushed  to  the  apartment  from  which  came  the  voice  he  heard, 
and  finding  there  an  elderly  gentleman,  just  rising  from  his  bed,  he 
accosted  him  as  General  Prescott.  To  this  the  gentleman  assented, 
and  declared  he  bore  the  name  and  title. 

"  Then  you  are  my  prisoner,"  replied  Barton. 

"  I  acknowledge  I  am,"  was  the  rejoinder. 

He  was  only  allowed  time  to  partially  dress  himself,  when  he  was 
hurried  off  by  his  captors. 

Meanwhile  a  singular  circumstance  had  occurred.  At  the  very 
moment  when  Barton  first  gained  admission  into  the  house,  one  of 
the  British  soldiers  managed  to  escape,  and  flew  to  the  quarters  of 
the  main  guard  to  give  the  alarm.  This  man,  in  the  alarm  of  the 
moment,  rushed  forth  with  no  other  clothing  than  his  shirt ;  and 
having  hastily  explained  the  matter  to  the  sentinel  on  duty,  he  passed 
on  to  the  quarters  of  the  cavalry,  which  was  much  more  remote 
from  the  head-quarters  of  the  General.  But  when  the  sentinel  came 
to  explain  the  matter  to  the  officer  of  the  guard,  it  seemed  so  incredi 
ble,  that  he  was  laughed  at,  and  was  told  that  he  had  seen  a  ghost. 
He  admitted  that  the  messenger  was  clothed  in  white,  and  after  be 
ing  heartily  laughed  at  for  his  credulity,  was  ordered  back  to  his  sta 
tion,  and  the  guard  went  back  to  their  quarters.  This  was  a  most 
fortunate  circumstance,  for  had  the  alarm  of  the  soldier  been  believed, 
nothing  could  have  preserved  the  gallant  Major  and  his  band  from 
destruction. 

The  whole  party,  with  the  English  General  in  their  midst,  marched 
rapidly  toward  the  shore.  When  they  arrived  at  the  boat,  their  pris 
oner,  who  had  been  hurried  away  half-dressed,  was  permitted  to 
complete  his  toilet.  They  re-embarked  with  all  possible  haste,  and 
had  not  got  far  from  the  island,  when  the  discharge  of  cannon  and 
three  sky-rockets  gave  the  signal  of  alarm.  But,  for  some  cause, 
the  signal  was  not  understood  by  those  on  the  ships,  and,  by  this 
fortunate  circumstance,  the  gallant  band  was  preserved,  for  it  would 
have  been  easy  for  their  enemy  to  have  cut  off  their  retreat.  Although 

227 


80  TALES    AND    TRADITIONS. 

full  of  anxiety  and  apprehension,  they  bent  every  nerve  to  reach 
their  port  of  destination,  happily  succeeding  without  meeting  an 
obstacle.  When  they  landed,  General  Prescott  said  to  Lieutenant- 
Colonel  Barton : 

"  Sir,  you  have  made  an  amazing  bold  push  to-night." 

"  We  have  been  fortunate,"  was  the  modest  reply. 

Before  morning  the  prisoner  was  in  Providence,  where  he  was  deliv 
ered  into  the  custody  of  General  Spencer,  who  treated  him  with  consid 
eration  far  above  his  deserts.  After  a  few  days'  stay  in  Providence,  Pres 
cott  was  sent,  under  an  escort,  to  the  head-quarters  of  Washington  on 
the  Hudson.  On  reaching  Lebanon,  the  party  stopped  at  the  tavern 
of  a  Captain  Alden,  who  was  an  ardent  Whig,  and  hated  the  very 
name  of  Prescott.  Nothing  could  have  afforded  him  greater  gratifi 
cation  than  an  opportunity  to  inflict  condign  punishment  upon  the 
tyrant,  and  the  General  unwittingly  gave  him  that  opportunity. 

At  the  table  Mrs.  Alden  waited  upon  the  General ;  among  the 
dishes  presented  for  his  acceptance,  was  some  "  succotash,"  or  corn- 
and-beans,  a  favorite  dish  with  the  New  England  people,  but  which 
seemed  to  excite  the  wrath  and  resentment  of  the  little-great  Gen 
eral,  whose  temper  was  probably  not  improved  by  the  events  of  the 
last  few  days. 

Taking  the  dish  in  his  hand,  and  forgetting  that  his  position  was 
that  of  prisoner  not  of  master,  he  looked  at  it  a  moment,  and  ex 
claimed  : 

"  What's  this  !  what's  this !  are  you  going  to  treat  me  with  the 
food  of  hogs  ?" 

Saying  which,  he  dashed  the  tureen  upon  the  floor,  breaking  it, 
and  strewing  the  contents  in  all  directions.  Mrs.  Alden  had  too 
much  spirit  to  brook  such  an  insult  to  her  cookery  and  table,  and 
left  the  room  to  inform  her  husband  of  the  occurrence.  In  a  few 
moments,  Captain  Alden,  bearing  a  large  cart-whip  in  his  hand,  en 
tered  the  room,  demanding  of  the  British  General  what  he  meant  by  such 
conduct  in  his  house.  Seeing  vengeance  written  in  every  lineament 
of  the  Captain's  face,  the  General  appealed  to  the  officers  of  his 
escort  for  protection. 

"  Protection !"  said  the  landlord ;  "  I'll  show  you  the  protection 
you  deserve ;"  and  seizing  him  by  the  collar,  he  dragged  the  whilom 
238 


THE    HORSEWHIPPING.  37 

haughty  dictator  from  his  chair,  when,  with  all  the  force  of  an  arm 
nerved  by  the  memory  of  the  wrongs  of  good  Americans,  he  rained 
down  a  shower  of  blows  which  made  the  victim  writhe,  and  cry  for 
that  mercy  which  he  had  so  often  denied  to  others. 

"  I'll  teach  you  manners,"  panted  Aldeii,  between  the  blows,  "  I'll 
teach  you  to  insult  those  who  are  giving  you  better  than  you  deserve, 
you  tyrannical  minion  of  English  oppression  !"  While  at  every  word 
the  long  lash  of  the  whip  descended  upon  the  groveling  shoulders  of 
his  enemy,  until,  from  mere  exhaustion,  Alden  ceased,  remarking  : 

"  There,  if  ever  you  want  another  lesson  in  good  manners,  come 
to  me  and  I'll  give  it  to  you  with  pleasure." 

The  officers  present  made  no  serious  attempt  to  relieve  their  pris 
oner  from  his  predicament.  They  felt  that  he  richly  merited  the  cas- 
tigation ;  while  the  crestfallen  General  was  too  well  assured  of  their 
feelings  toward  him  to  reproach  them— but  he  took  a  terrible  revenge, 
when,  after  a  time,  being  exchanged,  he  returned  to  his  command  at 
Newport,  where  he  burned  the  towns  and  villages,  turning  the  inhab 
itants  houseless  upon  the  world.  He  never  forgot  or  forgave  this 
infliction  of  personal  punishment;  and  when,  upon,  a  subsequent  oc 
casion,  three  of  the  citizens  of  Newport  waited  upon  him  concerning 
the  business  of  the  town,  he  stormed  and  raved  at  one  of  them  in" 
such  a  manner  that  he  was  compelled  to  withdraw.  After  the  oth 
ers  had  announced  their  business,  and  the  General  had  become  some 
what  calm,  he  inquired  : 

"  Was  not  my  treatment  of  Folger  rather  uncivil  ?" 

Upon  being  assured  that  it  certainly  was,  he  explained  it,  by  re 
marking  : 

"  He  looked  so  much  like  a Connecticut  man,  who  horse 
whipped  me  once,  that  I  could  not  bear  the  sight  of  him." 

The  accounts  which  are  given  of  General  Prescott's  treatment  of 
Ethan  Allen,  are  no  more  to  the  credit  of  his  dignity  than  the  story 
of  the  succotash. 

Shortly  after  Ethan  Allen's  celebrated  conquest  of  Ticonderoga, 
he  joined  the  expedition  into  Canada,  under  Generals  Schuyler  and 
Montgomery.  He  had  no  commission  from  Congress,  but  was  in 
duced  by  the  commanding  officers  to  follow  the  army,  under  a  prom 
ise  that  lie  should  command  certain  detachments  in  the  army,  when. 

229 


88  TALES  AND    TRADITIONS. 

occasion  required.  He  was  dispatched  into  Canada  with  letters  to 
the  Canadians,  explaining  the  object  of  the  expedition,  which  was 
not  aimed  against  the  inhabitants  of  the  country,  their  liberties  or 
religion,  but  against  the  British  possessors.  The  Canadians  were 
invited  to  make  common  cause  with  the  Continentals,  and  expel  the 
invader.  His  message  was  partially  successful,  and  numbers  of  the 
Canadians  joined  the  Congressional  banner. 

On  a  second  expedition  of  a  similar  nature,  he  was  induced  to 
undertake  the  enterprise  against  Montreal.  Matters  promised  him 
success,  but  at  a  critical  moment  many  of  his  Canadian  allies  aban 
doned  him.  The  result  was  a  total  defeat,  which  ended  in  the  sur 
render  of  himself  and  party. 

When  he  was  brought  before  General  Prescott,  the  commanding 
English  officer,  he  was  asked  by  him  his  name  and  title.  The  reply  cast 
the  Briton  into  a  towering  passion.  He  could  not  forget  the  loss  of  Ti- 
conderoga,  and  time  had  not  softened  the  bitterness  of  hatred  he  felt 
against  the  hero  of  that  glorious  adventure.  The  Englishman  so  far  for 
got  his  position  as  to  threaten  the  person  of  Allen  with  his  cane,  and 
applied  to  him  every  offensive  epithet  he  could  command.  Finding 
that  Allen  confronted  him  with  an  undaunted  gaze,  he  looked  around 
for  something  else  on  which  to  wreak  his  hatred.  He  ordered  the 
Canadians  who  had  been  taken  with  Allen,  to  be  brought  forward, 
and  executed.  As  they  were  brought  forward,  wringing  their  hands 
in  consternation  at  the  prospect  of  death,  the  heart  of  Allen  was 
touched,  as  he  could  but  feel  their  present  position  was  brought  about 
by  his  instrumentality.  He  therefore  flung  himself  between  the  exe 
cutioners  and  the  intended  victims,  opened  his  coat,  and  told  Gen 
eral  Prescott  to  let  his  vengeance  fall  on  him  alone,  as  he  was  the 
sole  cause  of  the  Canadians  taking  up  arms. 

The  guard  paused,  and  looked  toward  their  General,  and,  indeed, 
it  was  a  moment  of  suspense  and  interest  to  all  present.  The  Gen 
eral  stood  quiet  a  moment  or  two  in  hesitation,  and  then  said  : 

"  I  will  not  execute  you  now ;  but  you  shall  grace  a  halter  at  Ty 
burn,"  accompanying  his  speech  with  a  series  of  emphatic  oaths. 

Allen  was  now  removed  on  board  the  Gaspee  schooner  of  war, 
.oaded  with  irons  of  immense  weight,  and  cast  into  the  hold  of  the 
vessel.  Here  his  sufferings  were  of  the  most  acute  nature.  His 
230 


ETHAN    ALLEN.  39 

only  accommodations  were  a  chest,  on  which  he  sat  during  the  day 
and  which  served  him  as  a  couch  at  night.  The  irons  upon  his 
ankles  were  so  tight,  that  he  could  scarcely  lie  down,  and  then  only 
in  one  position.  Here  he  was  visited  by  many  officers  of  the  Eng 
lish  army,  some  of  whom  treated  him  civilly,  but  others  were  abu 
sive  and  insulting. 

At  the  expiration  of  six  weeks,  he  was  removed  to  a  vessel  off 
Quebec,  where  he  received  kind  and  courteous  treatment.  Here  he 
remained  until  his  removal  on  board  of  the  vessel  which  was  to 
carry  him  to  England.  Here  all  of  the  prisoners,  thirty -four,  were 
thrust  into  a  small  apartment,  each  heavily  ironed.  They  were  com 
pelled  during  the  whole  voyage  to  remain  in  their  confinement,  and 
were  subjected  to  every  indignity  that  cruelty  could  invent. 

When  first  ordered  to  enter  into  their  filthy  apartment,  Allen  re 
fused,  and  endeavored  to  argue  their  brutal  keeper  out  of  his  inhu 
man  purpose,  but  all  in  vain.  The  reply  to  his  appeal  was  insults 
of  the  grossest  kind,  and  an  officer  of  the  vessel  insulting  him  by 
spitting  in  his  face.  Handcuffed  as  he  was,  the  intrepid  American 
sprung  upon  the  dastard,  and  knocked  him  at  length  upon  the  floor. 
The  fellow  hastily  scrambled  out  of  the  reach  of  Allen,  and  placed 
himself  under  the  protection  of  the  guard.  Allen  challenged  him 
to  fight,  offering  to  meet  him  even  with  irons  upon  his  wrists,  but 
the  Briton,  trembling  with  fear,  contented  himself  with  the  protec 
tion  afforded  him  by  British  bayonets,  and  did  not  venture  to  oppose 
the  intrepid  American.  The  prisoners  were  now  forced  into  their 
den  at  the  point  of  the  bayonet. 

The  sufferings  of  the  captives  during  the  voyage  were  intense. 
Their  privations  soon  brought  on  diarrhoea  and  fevers.  But,  not 
withstanding  their  sickness,  they  received  no  attention  from  their 
jailers,  and  even  those  who  were  crazed  with  raging  thirst,  were  de 
nied  the  simple  boon  of  fresh  water. 

On  arriving  at  Falmouth,  the  prisoners  were  all  marched  through 
the  town,  to  Pendennis  Castle,  about  a  mile  distant.  The  fame  of 
Allen  had  preceded  him,  and  multitudes  of  people  were  gathered 
along  the  route  to  gaze  upon  him,  and  the  other  prisoners.  The 
throng  was  so  great,  that  the  guard  were  compelled  to  force  a  pass 
age  through  the  crowd.  Allen  appeared  conspicuous  among  his 

231 


40  TALES    AND    TRADITIONS. 

fellow  prisoners,  by  his  eccentric  dress.  When  captured,  he  was 
taken  in  a  Canadian  dress,  consisting  of  a  red  shirt,  a  red  worsted 
cap,  a  short  fawn-skin  jacket,  and  breeches  of  sagathy  ;  and  in  this 
dress  he  was  escorted  through  the  wondering  crowd  at  Falinouth. 
Ticouderoga  was  a  place  of  notoriety,  in  England,  and  the  hero  who 
had  so  signally  conquered  it  was  an  object  of  interest  and  wonder 
to  the  people. 

Allen  was  now  visited  by  a  great  number  of  people,  some  of 
whom  were  attracted  from  great  distances,  in  order  to  see  and  con 
verse  with  the  American  celebrity.  Discussion  ran  high  as  to  his 
eventual  disposal.  Some  declared  that  he  would  be  hung,  and  argued 
the  justice  of  the  act.  But  others  defended  and  supported  the  Amer 
icans.  Even  in  parliament  the  merits  of  the  question  were  discussed. 

From  their  prison  in  Pendeunis  Castle  they  were  removed  to  the 
Solebay  Frigate,  to  be  conveyed  to  America,  stopping  at  Cork  for 
provisions  and  water.  The  commanding  officer  was  harsh  and  cruel, 
and,  on  the  first  day,  ordered  the  prisoners  from  the  deck,  declaring 
that  it  was  a  place  for  gentlemen  only  to  walk.  A  few  days  after, 
Allen  shaved  and  dressed,  and  proceeded  to  the  deck.  The  Captain 
addressed  him  in  great  rage,  and  said : 

"  Did  I  not  order  you  not  to  come  on  deck  ?" 

Allen  replied  that  he  had  said  that  it  was  a  place  for  gentlemen 
to  walk,  and  that  he  was  Colonel  Allen,  a  gentleman  and  soldier, 
who  had  been  properly  introduced  to  him. 

His  reply  was  characteristic  of  his  brutal  despotism  :  "  Don't  walk 
on  the  same  side  of  the  deck  that  I  do,"  with  an  oath. 

The  sufferings  of  the  prisoners  continued,  but  when  at  Cork,  their 
situation  received  the  attention  of  several  benevolent  gentlemen,  who 
exerted  themselves  to  relieve  them.  Ample  stores  and  clothing 
were  sent  on  board,  but  the  Captain  refused  privilege  to  the  prisoners 
to  enjoy  them. 

The  vessels  proceeded  to  America,  first  casting  anchor  in  the  har 
bor  of  Cape  Fear,  North  Carolina.  From  this  place  Allen  was  re 
moved  to  Halifax.  Here  his  treatment  continued  of  the  same  kind, 
that,  from  the  first,  had  characterized  his  captivity.  He  received  here 
some  kind  attentions  from  Captain  Smith,  which  he  afterward  had 
occasion  to  return  in  a  signal  manner.  After  a  confinement  of  two 
232 


ALLEN    AND    CAPTAIN   SMITH.  43 

months  he  was  removed  to  a  man-of-war,  to  be  conveyed  to  New 
York,  for  the  purpose  of  effecting  an  exchange.  When  arrived  on 
board  of  the  vessel,  he  was  delighted  to  find  that  he  was  under  the 
command  of  Captain  Smith,  who  had  before  served  him. 

When  Colonel  Allen  met  Captain  Smith  on  board  the  vessel,  he 
greeted  him  with  thanks  for  his  kindness.  The  noble  Captain  dis 
claimed  all  merit,  and  said  :  "  This  is  a  mutable  world,  and  one  gen 
tleman  never  knows  but  that  it  may  be  in  his  power  to  help  an 
other."  This  sentiment  was  strikingly  verified  in  the  course  of  the 
voyage. 

One  night,  as  they  were  sailing  along  the  coast  of  Rhode  Island, 
Captain  Burke  and  a  few  other  prisoners  came  to  Allen  with  a  plan 
for  destroying  the  British  officers,  seizing  the  vessel,  and  carrying 
her  into  some  friendly  port.  A  large  quantity  of  cash  on  board  was 
held  up  as  an  inducement  for  the  enterprise.  But  Captain  Smith  had 
generously  distinguished  the  prisoners,  and  for  this  reason  Allen 
strongly  condemned  the  plan.  He  declared  that  if  the  attempt  was 
made,  he  would  assist  in  the  defense  of  the  Briton,  with  all  his  skill 
and  strength.  Finding  the  conspiracy  so  strenuously  opposed  by  the 
most  influential  of  the  prisoners,  it  was  abandoned,  upon  the  assur 
ance  that  they  should  not  be  betrayed. 

Upon  arriving  in  New  York,  Colonel  Allen  was  released  on  parole, 
but  restricted  to  the  limits  of  New  York.  An  attempt  was  made 
soon  after  to  induce  him  to  join  the  British  ranks.  He  was  offered 
a  heavy  sum  of  money,  and  large  tracts  of  land,  either  in  New 
Hampshire  or  Connecticut,  when  the  country  was  conquered.  The 
integrity  of  the  man,  however,  was  unassailable.  His  reply  to  the 
proposition  was  characteristic.  He  said  that  the  offer  reminded  him 
of  a  certain  incident  in  Scripture.  The  devil,  he  said,  took  Christ 
to  a  high  hill,  and  showing  him  the  kingdoms  of  earth,  offered  him 
their  possession,  if  he  would  fall  down  and  worship  him,  "  when  all 
the  while  the  damned  soul  had  not  one  foot  of  land  upon  earth  I" 
It  may  be  believed  that  those  sent  to  negotiate  with  him  did  not 
fail  to  understand  the  illustration. 

Colonel  Allen,  in  a  narrative  of  his  captivity,  written  by  himself, 
gives  a  fearful  account  of  the  condition  of  the  American  prisoners  in 
New  York.  Before  he  was  exchanged  he  was  arrested  on  the  absurd 

235 


44  TALES    AND    TRADITIONS. 

charge  of  breaking  his  parole,  and  thrown  into  the  Provost  jail. 
Here  he  remained  from  August  to  May,  during  which  time  he  wit 
nessed  instances  of  suffering  of  the  most  agonizing  kind,  and  was 
himself  compelled  again  to  feel  the  barbarous  treatment  of  British 
officials.  At  the  expiration  of  the  above  period  he  was  exchanged, 
and  once  more  tasted  of  the  sweets  of  freedom. 

It  may  not  be  out  of  place  here,  since  we  have  given  an  account 
of  Barton's  brilliant  exploit  in  the  capture  of  General  Prescott,  to 
relate  the  story  of  General  Wadsworth's  abduction,  who  fell  into  the 
hands  of  the  British  in  a  manner  somewhat  similar,  though  the  affciir 
was  characterized  by  no  such  daring  on  the  part  of  the  enemy  as  our 
own  young  officer  showed,  in  venturing  into  the  lines  of  the  English, 
since  General  Wadsworth  was  known  to  be  almost  wholly  unpro 
tected  at  the  time  it  was  resolved  to  take  him. 

In  the  spring  of  1780  he  was  appointed  to  the  command  of  a 
party  of  State  troops  in  Canada,  in  the  district  of  Maine.  At  the 
expiration  of  the  time  for  which  the  troops  were  engaged,  General 
Wadsworth  dismissed  them,  retaining  six  soldiers  only  as  his  guard, 
as  he  was  making"  preparations  to  depart  from  the  place.  A  neigh 
bor  communicated  his  situation  to  the  British  commander  at  Penob- 
scot,  and  a  party  of  twenty-five  soldiers,  commanded  by  Lieutenant 
Stockton,  was  sent  to  make  him  a  prisoner.  They  embarked  in  a 
small  schooner,  and,  landing  within  four  miles  of  the  General's 
quarters,  they  were  concealed  in  the  house  of  a  Methodist  preacher 
by  the  name  of  Snow — professedly  a  friend  to  us,  but  really  a  traitor 
— until  eleven  in  the  evening,  when  they  made  their  arrangements 
for  the  attack. 

The  party  rushed  suddenly  on  the  sentinel,  who  gave  the  alarm, 
and  one  of  his  comrades  instantly  opened  the  kitchen  door,  and 
the  enemy  were  so  near  as  to  enter  with  the  sentinel.  The  lady  of 
the  General,  and  her  friend,  Miss  Fenno,  of  Boston,  were  in  the 
house  at  the  time.  Mrs.  Wadsworth  escaped  from  her  husband's 
room  into  that  of  Miss  Fenno. 

The  assailants  soon  became   masters  of  the  whole  house,  except 

the  room  where  the  General  was,  and  which  was  strongly  barred, 

and  they  kept  up  a  constant  firing  of  musketry  into  the  windows 

and  doors,  except  into  those  of  the  ladies'  room.     General  Wadsworth 

230 


ABDUCTION    OF    GENEKAL    WADSWORTH.  45 

was  provided  with  a  pair  of  pistols,  a  blunderbuss  and  a  fusee, 
which  he  employed  with  great  dexterity,  being  determined  to  defend 
himself  to  the  last  moment.  With  his  pistols,  which  he  discharged 
several  times,  he  defended  the  rooms  of  his  window  and  a  door 
which  opened  into  a  kitchen.  His  blunderbuss  he  snapped  several 
times,  but  unfortunately  it  missed  fire  ;  he  then  secured  his  fusee, 
which  he  discharged  on  some  who  were  breaking  through  the  win 
dows,  and  obliged  them  to  flee.  He  next  defended  himself  with  his 
bayonet,  till  he  received  a  ball  through  his  left  arm,  when  he  surren 
dered,  which  terminated  the  contest.  The  firing,  however,  did  not 
cease  from  the  kitchen  until  the  General  unbarred  the  door,  when 
the  soldiers  rushed  into  the  room,  and  one  of  them,  who  had  been 
badly  wounded,  pointing  a  musket  at  his  breast,  exclaimed,  with  an 
oath,  "  you  have  taken  my  life,  and  I  will  take  yours."  But  Lieu 
tenant  Stockton  turned  the  musket  aside,  and  saved  his  life.  The 
commanding  officer  now  applauded  the  General  for  his  admirable 
defense,  and  assisted  in  putting  on  his  clothes,  saying,  "  you  see  we 
are  in  a  critical  situation,  and  therefore  you  must  excuse  haste." 
Mrs.  Wadsworth  threw  a  blanket  over  him,  and  Miss  Fenno  affixed 
a  handkerchief  closely  around  his  wounded  arm. 

In  this  condition,  though  much  exhausted,  he,  with  a  wounded 
American  soldier,  was  directed  to  march  on  foot,  while  the  British 
wounded  soldiers  were  mounted  on  a  horse  taken  from  the  General's 
barn.  They  departed  in  great  haste.  "When  they  had  proceeded  about 
a  mile,  they  met,  at  a  small  house,  a  number  of  people  collected,  and 
who  inquired  if  they  had  taken  General  Wadsworth.  They  said 
no,  and  added  that  they  must  leave  a  wounded  man  in  their  care, 
and  if  they  paid  proper  attention  to  him,  they  should  be  compen 
sated  ;  but  if  not,  they  would  burn  do\vn  their  house.  The  man 
appeared  to  be  dying.  General  Wadsworth  was  mounted  on  the 
horse  behind  the  other  wounded  soldier,  and  was  warned  that  his 
safety  depended  on  his  silence.  Having  passed  over  a  frozen  mill- 
pond  about  a  mile  in  length,  they  were  met  by  some  of  their  party 
who  had  been  left  behind.  At  this  place  they  found  a  British  pri 
vateer,  which  brought  the  party  from  the  fort.  The  Captain,  on 
being  told  that  he  must  return  there  with  the  prisoner  and  the  party, 
and  seeing  some  of  his  men  wounded,  became  outrageous,  and 

237 


46  TALKS   AND   TRADITIONS. 

cursing  the  General  for  a  rebel,  demanded  how  he  dared  to  fire  on 
the  king's  troops,  and  commanded  him  to  help  launch  the  boat,  or  he 
would  put  his  hanger  through  his  body.  The  General  replied  that 
he  was  a  prisoner,  and  badly  wounded,  and  could  not  assist  in  launch 
ing  the  boat.  Lieutenant  Stockton,  on  hearing  of  this  abusive  treat 
ment,  in  a  manner  honorable  to  himself,  told  the  Captain  that  the 
prisoner  was  a  gentleman,  had  made  a  brave  defense,  and  was  to  be 
treated  accordingly,  and  added,  that  his  conduct  should  be  repre 
sented  to  General  Campbell.  After  this  the  Captain  treated  the 
prisoner  with  great  civility,  and  afforded  him  every  comfort  in  his 
power. 

General  Wadsworth  had  left  the  ladies  in  the  house,  not  a  win 
dow  of  which  escaped  destruction.  The  doors  were  broken  down, 
and  two  of  the  rooms  were  on  fire  ;  the  floors  were  covered  with 
blood,  and  on  one  of  them  lay  a  brave  old  soldier  dangerously 
wounded,  begging  for  death,  that  he  might  be  released  from  misery. 
The  anxiety  and  distress  of  Mrs.  Wadsworth  were  inexpressible,  and 
that  of  the  General  was  greatly  increased  by  the  uncertainty  in  his 
mind  respecting  the  fate  of  his  little  son,  only  five  years  old,  who 
had  been  exposed  to  every  danger  by  firing  into  the  house ;  but  he 
had  the  happiness,  afterward,  of  hearing  of  his  safety. 

Having  arrived  at  the  British  fort,  the  capture  of  General  Wads- 
worth  was  soon  announced,  and  the  shore  thronged  with  spectators, 
to  see  the  man  who,  through  the  preceding  year,  had  disappointed 
all  the  designs  of  the  British  in  that  quarter ;  and  loud  shouts  were 
heard  from  the  rabble  that  covered  the  shore.  But  when  he  arrived 
at  the  fort,  and  was  conducted  into  the  officer's  guard-room,  he  was 
treated  with  politeness.  General  Campbell,  the  commandant  of  the 
British  garrison,  sent  his  compliments  to  him,  and  a  surgeon  to  dress 
his  wound,  assuring  him  that  his  situation  should  be  made  comfort 
able.  The  next  morning,  General  Campbell  invited  him  to  break 
fast,  and  at  table  paid  him  many  compliments  in  the  defense  he  had 
made,  observing,  however,  that  he  had  exposed  himself  in  a  degree 
not  perfectly  justifiable.  General  Wadsworth  replied  that  from  the 
manner  of  the  attack,  he  had  no  reason  to  suspect  any  design  of 
taking  him  alive,  and  that  he  intended,  therefore,  to  sell  his  life  as 
dearly  as  possible.  He  was  then  informed  that  a  room  in  the 
238 


A  PAROLE    REFUSED.  47 

officers'  barracks  within  the  fort,  was  prepared  for  him,  and  that  an 
Orderly  Sergeant  should  daily  attend  him  to  breakfast  and  dinner  at 
the  commandant's  table.  Having  retired  to  his  solitary  apartment, 
and  while  his  spirit  was  extremely  depressed  by  a  recollection  of  the 
past,  and  by  his  present  situation,  he  received  from  General  Camp 
bell  several  books  of  amusement,  and  soon  after  a  visit  from  him, 
kindly  endeavoring  to  cheer  the  spirits  of  his  prisoner  by  conversa 
tion.  The  principal  officers  of  the  garrison  also  called  upon  him,  and 
from  them  all,  whom  he  daily  met  at  the  commandant's  table,  he 
received  particular  attention  and  kindness. 

"  He  now  made  application  for  a  flag  of  truce,  by  which  means 
he  could  transmit  a  letter  to  the  Governor  of  Massachusetts,  and 
another  to  Mrs.  Wads  worth.  This  was  granted  on  the  condition  that 
the  letter  to  the  Governor  should  be  inspected.  The  flag  was  in 
trusted  to  Lieutenant  Stockton,  and  on  his  return,  the  General  was 
relieved  from  all  anxiety  respecting  his  wife  and  family.  At  the  end 
of  five  weeks,  he  requested  of  General  Campbell  the  customary 
privilege  of  parole,  and  received  in  reply  that  his  case  had  been  re 
ported  to  the  commanding  officer  at  New  York,  and  that  no  altera 
tion  eould  be  made,  till  orders  were  received  from  that  quarter.  In 
about  two  months'  time,  Mrs.  Wadsworth  and  Miss  Fenno  arrived, 
and  the  officers  of  the  garrison  contributed  to  render  their  visit 
agreeable  to  all  concerned. 

"  About  the  same  time,  orders  were  received  from  the  command 
ing  General  at  New  York,  which  were  concealed  from  General  Wads- 
worth,  but  he  finally  learned  that  he  was  not  to  be  paroled  nor  ex 
changed,  but  was  to  be  sent  to  England  as  a  rebel  of  too  much  con 
sequence  to  be  at  liberty.  Not  long  afterward,  Major  Benjamin 
Benton,  a  brave  and  worthy  man,  who  had  served  under  the  Gen 
eral  the  preceding  summer,  was  taken  and  brought  into  the  fort, 
and  lodged  in  the  same  room  with  him.  He  had  been  informed  that 
both  himself  and  the  General  were  to  be  sent  immediately  after  the 
return  of  a  privateer  now  on  a  cruise,  either  to  New  York  or  Hali 
fax,  and  thence  to  England.  The  prisoners  immediately  resolved  to 
make  a  desperate  effort  to  effect  their  escape.  They  were  confined 
in  a  grated  room  in  the  officers'  barracks  within  the  fort.  The  wells 
of  this  fortress,  exclusively  of  the  depth  of  the  ditch  surrounding  it, 

239 


48  TALES    AND    TRADITIONS. 

••verc  twenty  feet  high,  with  fraisiug  on  top,  and  chevaux-de-frise  at 
the  bottom. 

"  Two  sentinels  were  always  in  the  entry,  and  their  door— the  upper 
part  of  which  was  glass— might  be  opened  by  their  watchmen  when 
ever  they  thought  proper,  and  was  actually  opened  at,  seasons  of 
peculiar  darkness  and  silence.  At  the  exterior  doors  of  the  entries, 
sentinels  were  also  stationed,  as  were  others  in  the  body  of  the  fort, 
and  "at  the  quarters  of  General  Campbell.  At  the  guard-house  a 
strong  guard  was  daily  mounted.  Several  sentinels  were  stationed 
on  the  walls  of  the  fort,  and  a  complete  line  occupied  them  by  night. 
Without  the  ditch,  glacis  and  abattis,  another  complete  set  of  sol 
diers  patroled  through  the  night,  and  a  picket  guard  was  placed  in 
or  near  the  isthmus  leading  from  the  fort  to  the  main  land.  Not 
withstanding  all  these  fearful  obstacles  to  success,  they  resolved  to 
make  the  perilous  attempt. 

"  The  room  in  which  they  were  confined  was  railed  with  boards. 
One  of  these  they  determined  to  cut  off  so  as  to  make  a  hole  large 
enough  to  pass  through,  and  then  to  creep  along  till  they  should  come 
to  the  next  or  middle  entry ;  and  there  lower  themselves  down  into 
this  entry  by  a  blanket.  If  they  should  not  be  discovered,  the 
passage  to  the  walls  of  the  fort  was  easy.  In  the  evening, 
after  the  sentinels  had  seen  the  prisoners  retire  to  bed,  General 
Wadsworth  got  up,  and  standing  in  a  chair  attempted  to  cut  with  his 
knife,  the  intended  opening,  but  soon  found  it  impracticable.  The  next 
day,  by  giving  a  soldier  a  dollar  they  procured  a  gimlet.  With  this 
instrument  they  proceeded  cautiously  and  as  silently  as  possible  to  sep 
arate  the  board,  and  in  order  to  conceal  every  appearance  from  their 
servants  and  from  the  officers,  their  visitors,  they  carefully  covered  the 
gimlet  holes  with  chewed  bread.  At  the  end  of  three  weeks,  their 
labors  were  so  far  completed,  that  it  only  remained  to  cut  with  a 
knife,  the  parts  which  were  left  to  hold  the  piece  in  its  place.  When 
their  preparations  were  finished,  they  learned  that  the  privateer  in 
which  they  were  to  embark  was  daily  expected. 

"  In  the  evening  of  the  18th  of  June,  a  very  severe  storm  of  rain, 
with  great  darkness  and  almost  incessant  lightning,  came  on.     This 
the   prisoners  considered  as  the  propitious   moment.     Having  ex 
tinguished   their  lights,  they  began  to  cut  the  corners  of  the  board, 
240 


THE  GENERAL'S  ESCAPE.  49 

and  in  less  than  an  hour  the  intended  opening  was  completed.  The 
noise  which  the  operation  occasioned  was  drowned  by  the  rain  fall 
ing  on  the  roof.  Major  Benton  first  ascended  to  the  ceiling,  and 
pressed  himself  through  the  opening.  General  Wadsworth  next, 
having  put  the  corner  of  his  blanket  through  the  hole  and  made  it 
fast  by  a  strong  wooden  skewer,  attempted  to  make  his  way  through, 
standing  on  a  chair  below,  but  it  was  with  extreme  difficulty  that  he 
at  length  effected  it,  and  reached  the  middle  entry.  From  this  he 
passed  through  the  door  which  he  found  open,  and  made  his  way  to 
the  wall  of  the  fort,  and  had  to  encounter  the  greatest  difficulty  be 
fore  he  could  ascend  to  the  top.  He  had  now  to  creep  along  the 
top  of  the  fort  between  the  sentry  boxes,  at  the  very  moment  when 
the  relief  was  shifting  sentinels,  but  the  falling,  of  the  heavy  rain 
kept  the  sentinels  within  their  boxes,  and  favored  his  escape.  Hav 
ing  now  fastened  his  blanket  round  a  picket  at  the  top,  he  let  him 
self  down  through  the  chevaux-de-frise  to  the  ground,  and,  in  a 
manner  astonishing  to  himself,  made  his  way  into  the  open  field. 
Here  he  was  obliged  to  grope  his  way  among  rocks,  stumps  and 
brush  in  the  darkness  of  night,  till  he  reached  the  cove.  Happily 
the  tide  had  ebbed,  and  he  was  enabled  to  cross  the  water,  which 
was  about  a  mile  in  breadth,  and  not  more  than  three  feet  deep. 

"  About  two  o'clock  in  the  morning,  General  Wadsworth  found 
himself  a  mile  and  a  half  from  the  fort,  and  he  proceeded  through  a 
thick  wood  and  brush  to  the  Penobscot  river,  and,  after  passing  some 
distance  along  the  shore,  being  seven  miles  from  the  fort,  to  his  un 
speakable  joy  he  saw  his  friend  Benton  advancing  toward  him.  Ma 
jor  Benton  had  been  obliged  to  encounter  in  his  course  equal  diffi 
culties  with  his  companion,  and  such  were  the  incredible  perils, 
dangers  and  obstructions  which  they  surmounted,  that  their  escape 
may  be  considered  almost  miraculous. 

"  It  was  now  necessary  that  they  should  cross  the  Penobscot 
river,  and  very  fortunately  they  discovered  a  canoe  with  oars  on  the 
shore  suited  to  their  purpose.  While  on  the  river,  they  discovered 
a  barge  with  a  party  of  the  British  from  the  fort,  in  pursuit  of  them, 
but  by  taking  an  oblique  course,  and  plying  their  oars  to  the  ut 
most,  they  happily  eluded  the  eyes  of  their  pursuers,  and  arrived 
safe  on  the  western  shore.  After  having  wandered  in  the  wilderness 

241 


50  TALES   AND    TRADITIONS. 

for  several  days  and  nights,  exposed  to  extreme  fatigue  and  cold, 
and  with  no  other  food  than  a  little  dry  bread  and  meat,  which 
they  brought  in  their  pockets  from  the  fort,  they  reached  the  settle 
ments  on  the  river  St.  George,  and  no  further  difficulties  attended 
their  return  to  their  respective  families." 


THE  MOTHER'S  TRIAL. 

WHO  has  not  heard  of  Logan,  "  the  white  man's  friend  " — that  noble 
specimen  of  the  Indian  race,  who,  by  his  forbearance,  prudence,  and 
magnanimity,  has  done  so  much  toward  elevating  the  character  of 
the  red-man  to  that  high  standard  so  forcibly  depicted  in  the  works 
of  America's  great  novelist — Cooper.  That  there  may  have  been 
thousands  among  the  tribes  who  inhabited  this  continent  at  the 
period  of  its  settlement  by  the  whites,  who  were  actuated  and  con 
trolled  by  the  savage  impulses  of  their  naturally  brutal  and  cruel  pro 
pensities,  there  can  be  no  doubt ;  but  these  pages  give  striking  evi 
dence  that  there  were  many  who  were  governed  by  the  dictates  of 
higher  instincts  and  loftier  sentiments  than  those  of  passion  and 
prejudice. 

In  early  live  Logan  lived  at  a  place  called  Logan's  Spring,  in 
Mifflin  county,  Pennsylvania.  The  first  settler  in  his  immediate 
neighborhood  was  William  Brown,  who  afterwards  became  an  asso 
ciate  Judge  to  Mifflin  county,  a  post  which  he  held  until  his  death, 
at  the  age  of  ninety.  While  engaged  in  looking  for  a  convenient 
spot  on  which  to  erect  his  cabin,  he  visited  Logan  at  his  camp,  ac 
companied  by  his  brother,  and  while  there,  engaged  in  a  friendly 
contest  of  skill  in  the  use  of  the  rifle  with  the  chieftain.  A  dollar 
a  shot  was  the  wager  for  which  they  contended,  and  when  they 
ceased  it  was  found  that  Logan  was  the  loser  of  several  shots.  Go 
ing  to  his  cabin,  he  returned  with  as  many  deer-skins  as  lie  had  lost 
dollars,  and  handed  them  to  the  winner,  who  refused  to  take  them, 
242 


LOGAN  AND    THE    TAILOR.  51 

alleging  that  he  was  his  guest,  and  did  not  come  to  rob  him  ;  that 
the  bet  had  been  a  mere  nominal  one,  and  he  did  not  expect  him  to 
pay  it.  The  chief  drew  himself  up  to  his  full  height,  while  a  frown 
of  injured  dignity  darkened  his  brow,  and  exclaimed :  "  Me  bet  to 
make  you  shoot  your  best  ;  me  gentleman,  and  me  take  your  money 
if  nie  beat,"  and  as  there  was  no  wish  to  insult  him,  the  winner  was 
obliged  to  take  the  skins  from  their  host,  who  would  not  accept 
even  a  horn  of  powder  in  return.  So  much  for  the  Indian's  honesty 
and  integrity. 

Mrs.  Nbrris,  a  daughter  of  Judge  Brown,  gives  some  particulars 
relating  to  Logan,  which  are  highly  interesting.  She  says  :  "  Logan 
supported  himself  by  killing  deer  and  dressing  their  skins,  which  he 
sold  to  the  whites.  He  had  sold  quite  a  quantity  to  one  De  Yong,  a 
tailor,  who  lived  in  Fuguson's  valley,  below  the  Gap.  Tailors,  in 
those  days,  dealt  extensively  in  buckskin  breeches.  Logan  received 
his  pay,  according  to  stipulation,  in  wheat.  The  wheat,  on  being 
taken  to  the  mill,  was  found  so  worthless  that  the  miller  refused  to 
grind  it.  Logan  was  much  chagrined,  and  attempted  in  vain  to  ob 
tain  redress  from  the  tailor.  He  then  took  his  case  before  his  friend 
Brown,  then  a  magistrate  ;  and  on  the  Judge's  questioning  him  as 
to  the  character  of  the  wheat,  and  what  was  in  it,  Logan  sought  for 
words  in  vain  to  express  the  precise  nature  of  the  article  with  which 
the  wheat  was  adulterated,  but  said  that  it  resembled  in  character 
the  wheat  itself. 

"  It  must  have  been  cheat,"  said  the  Judge. 

"  Yon  !"  said  Logan,  "  that  very  good  name  for  him." 

A  decision  was  given  in  Logan's  favor,  and  a  writ  given  to  him  to 
hand  to  the  constable,  which,  he  was  told,  would  bring  the  money 
for  the  skins.  But  the  untutored  Indian — too  uncivilized  to  be  dis 
honest — could  not  comprehend  by  what  magic  this  little  bit  of  paper 
would  force  the  tailor  against  his  will  to  pay  for  the  skins.  The 
Judge  took  down  his  own  commission,  with  the  arms  of  the  king 
upon  it,  and  explained  to  him  the  first  principles  and  operations  of 
civil  law.  "  Law  good,"  said  Logan  ;  "  make  rogues  pay." 

But  how  much  more  efficient  the  law  which  the  Great  Spirit  had 
impressed  upon  the  Indian's  heart — to  do  unto  others  as  he  would  be 
done  by. 

243 


53  TALES    AND   TRADITIONS. 

When  one  of  Judge  Brown's  children  was  just  learning  to  walk, 
its  mother  happened  to  express  a  regret  that  she  could  not  get  a  pair 
of  shoes  to  support  its  first  efforts.  Logan,  who  stood  by,  overheard 
the  remark,  but  apparently  paid  no  attention  to  it,  although  he  had 
determined  in  his  own  mind  that  the  want  of  shoes  should  not  hin 
der  the  little  girl  in  her  first  attempts.  Two  or  three  days  passed, 
and  the  remark  had  been  forgotten  by  all  save  the  chieftain,  when, 
happening  into  their  house,  he  asked  the  mother  if  she  would  allow 
the  child  to  go  with  him,  and  spend  the  day  at  his  cabin.  Mrs.  B. 
could  not  divine  the  reason  of  such  a  request,  and  all  her  suspicions 
were  aroused  at  the  idea  of  placing  her  little  cherub  in  the  hands 
of  one  whose  objects  she  could  not  understand.  The  proposition 
alarmed  her,  and,  without  giving  a  decided  negative,  she  hesitated  to 
comply.  The  matter  was  left  to  her  husband,  who  urged  her  to 
consent,  representing  the  delicacy  of  Logan's  feelings,  his  sensitive 
ness,  and  his  character  for  truth  and  plain  dealing.  With  much  re 
luctance,  but  with  apparent  cheerfulness,  the  mother  at  length  com 
plied,  although  her  heart  was  filled  with  forebodings,  as  she  saw  her 
little  one  disappear  in  -the  woods  in  the  arms  of  the  chieftain. 
Slowly  passed  the  sad  hours  away,  and  the  poor  mother  could  do 
nothing  but  think  of  her  absent  one,  in  the  hands  of  a  savage  war 
rior,  the  natural  enemy  of  the  pale-face.  As  the  day  drew  to  a  close, 
she  took  her  station  at  the  window,  and  watched  with  the  most  in 
tense  solicitude  for  the  return  of  her  child ;  but  hour  after  hour 
passed  away  without  bringing  any  relief  to  her  anxious  heart.  A 
thousand  vague  fears  and  conjectures  filled  her  mind  with  the  many 
tales  of  Indian  barbarity  and  treachery  which  she  had  heard,  and  as 
the  shades  of  evening  drew  around  the  landscape,  and  her  little  one 
had  not  returned,  she  felt  that  to  hear  of  her  death  at  the  hands  of 
the  chief  would  be  a  relief  to  her  overwrought  brain.  Her  husband 
endeavored  to  calm  her  agitated  feelings,  and  soothe  her  into  confi 
dence  in  the  integrity  of  Logan— but  with  little  effect ;  and  it  is  prob 
able  that  her  apprehensions  would  have  driven  her  to  go  to  the  cabin 
of  the  Indian  in  search  of  her  child.  Just  after  the  sun  went  down, 
however,  he  made  his  appearance  in  the  dim  twilight,  bearing  the 
little  treasure  in  his  arms,  who  seemed  delighted  with  her  conductor 
for  her  arms  were  thrown  about  his  neck  as  he  bore  her  along  with 
244 


LOGAN    AND    THE    MOCCASINS.  53 

firm  and  rapid  steps  to  her  home.  The  mother's  heart  leaped  with 
joy  as  she  recognized  the  persons  of  the  chief  and  the  child.  She 
sprung  from  her  chair,  where  she  had  passed  so  many  anxious  mo 
ments,  and  prepared  to  receive  the  little  one,  around  whom  had  been 
concentrated  all  her  maternal  feelings  that  tiresome,  lonely,  and 
weary  day.  A  few  brief  moments,  which  to  her  seemed  hours, 
brought  the  chief  to  the  door,  where  he  released  the  child  from  its 
embrace,  and  sat  it  down  upon  the  floor.  The  mother  caught  it  in 
her  arms  and  hugged  it  to  her  bosom,  while  the  father  addressed  his 
thanks  to  the  proud  and  gratified  chief  for  a  pair  of  beautiful  little 
moccasins,  adorned  with  beads  and  all  the  fancy  work  of  an  Indian's 
taste,  which  covered  and  supported  the  feet  of  the  little  girl.  During 
all  that  day,  which  had  been  so  tedious  and  full  of  anxiety  to  the 
mother,  Logan  had  been  engaged  in  constructing  and  ornamenting 
the  little  gift,  By  which  he  intended  to  show  his  appreciation  of  the 
many  favors  he  had  received  at  the  parents'  hands. 

Logan  was  called  a  Mingo  chief,  or  Mengwe,  whose  father  was 
chief  of  the  Cayugas,  whom  he  succeeded.  His  parent  being  at 
tached,  in  a  remarkable  degree,  to  the  benevolent  James  Logan,  after 
whom  he  named  his  son.  The  name  is  still  perpetuated  among  the 
Indians.  For  magnanimity  in  war,  and  greatness  of  soul  in  peace, 
few,  in  any  nation,  ever  surpassed  Logan.  He  was  inclined  to 
friendship  with  the  whites  ;  nothing  but  aggravated  wrongs  succeeded 
in  making  him  their  enemy.  He  took  no  part  in  the  French  wars, 
ending  in  1770,  except  that  of  peacemaker — was  always  acknowledged 
to  favor  us,  until  the  year  1774,  when  his  brother,  and  several  others 
of  the  family,  were  murdered. 

The  particulars  were  these.  In  the  spring  of  that  year  some  In 
dians  were  reported- to  have  robbed  the  people  upon  the  Ohio  river, 
who  were  in  that  country,  exploring  the  lands,  and  preparing  for 
settlements.  These  land-jobbers,  becoming  alarmed  at  what  they 
considered  the  hostile  character  of  the  Indians,  collected  themselves 
at  a  place  called  Whiting  creek,  the  site  of  the  present  town  of 
Wheeling,  and,  learning  that  there  were  two  Indians  on  the  river 
above,  Captain  Michael  Cresap,  belonging  to  the  exploring  party, 
proposed  to  fall  upon  and  kill  them. 

His  advice  was  first  opposed,  then  followed — the  two  Indians  were 

245 


54  TALES    AND    TRADITIONS. 

» 

slain.  The  same  day,  it  being  reported  that  there  were  Indians  be 
low  Wheeling,  on  the  river,  Oresap  and  his  party  immediately  marched 
to  the  place,  and  at  first  appeared  to  show  themselves  friendly,  suffer 
ing  the  Indians  to  pass  by  them  unmolested,  to  encamp  still  lower 
down,  at  the  mouth  of  Grove  Creek.  Cresap  now  followed,  attacked 
and  killed  several,  having  one  of  his  own  men  wounded  by  the  fire 
of  the  savages.  Here  some  of  the  family  of  Logan  were  slain. 
This  affair  was  exceedingly  aggravating,  inasmuch  as  the  whites  pre 
tended  no  provocation. 

Soon  after  this  the  whites  committed  another  unprovoked  outrage 
upon  the  Indian  encampment,  about  thirty  miles  above  Wheeling,  on 
the  opposite  side  of  the  river.  A  white  man  by  the  name  of  Great- 
house  lived  opposite  the  encampment.  He  collected  a  party  of 
thirty-two  men,  who  secreted  themselves,  while  he,  under  pretense 
of  a  friendly  visit,  crossed  the  river  to  ascertain  the  number  of  the 
Indians.  On  counting  them,  lie  found  they  were  too  numerous  for 
his  own  party.  These  Indians  had  heard  of  the  late  murder  of  their 
friends,  and  had  resolved  to  be  revenged.  Greathouse  did  not  know 
of  the  danger  he  was  incurring,  until  a  squaw  advised  him  of  it,  in 
friendly  caution  to  "  go  home."  He  then  invited  the  Indians  to  come 
over  the  river  and  drink  with  him,  this  being  a  part  of  his  plan  for 
separating  them,  that  they  might  be  more  easily  destroyed.  The  offer 
was  accepted  by  a  good  many,  who,  being  collected  at  a  tavern  in 
the  white  settlement,  were  treated  freely  to  liquor,  and  all  killed,  ex 
cept  a  little  girl.  Among  the  murdered  was  a  brother  and  sister  of 
Logan. 

The  remaining  Indians,  upon  the  other  side  of  the  river,  upon 
hearing  the  firing,  sent  off  two  canoes  with  armed  warriors,  who,  as 
they  approached  the  shore,  were  fired  upon  by  the  whites,  who  lay 
concealed  awaiting  them.  Nothing  prevented  their  taking  deadly 
aim,  so  that  their  fire  was  terribly  destructive,  and  the  canoes  were 
obliged  to  return.  This  affair  took  place  in  May,  1774.  These  were 
the  events  which  led  to  a  horrid  Indian  war,  in  which  many  inno 
cent  families  were  sacrificed  to  satisfy  the  vengeance  of  an  injured, 
incensed  people.  A  calm  followed  the  first  outbreak  ;  but  it  was  the 
calm  which  precedes  the  storm,  and  lasted  only  while  the  tocsin  of 
war  was  being  sounded  among  the  distant  nations. 
246 


LOGAN   DECLARES   WAR.  55 

In  July  of  the  same  year,  Logan,  at  the  head  of  eight  warriors, 
struck  a  blow  upon  some  inhabitants  in  Michigan,  where  no  one  ex 
pected  it.  He  left  the  settlement  of  the  Ohio,  which  all  supposed 
would  be  first  attacked  in  case  of  war,  and  hence  the  reason  of  his 
great  successes.  His  first  attack  was  upon  three  men  who  were 
pulling  flax  in  a  field.  One  was  shot  down,  and  the  two  others 
taken.  These  were  marched  into  the  wilderness,  and,  as  they  ap 
proached  the  Indian  town,  Logan  gave  the  scalp  halloo,  and  they 
were  met  by  the  inhabitants,  who  conducted  them  in.  Running  the 
gauntlet  was  next  to  be  performed.  Logan  took  no  delight  in  torture, 
and  he  instructed  one  of  the  prisoners  how  to  proceed  to  escape  the 
severities  of  the  gauntlet.  This  same  captive,  whose  name  was 
Robison,  was  afterward  sentenced  to  be  burned,  but  Logan,  though 
not  able  to  rescue  him  by  his  eloquence,  with  his  own  hand  cut  the 
cords  which  bound  him  to  the  stake,  and  caused  him  to  be  adopted 
into  an  Indian  family.  Robison  afterward  became  Logan's  scribe, 
and  wrote  for  him  the  letter,  tied  to  a  war-club,  which  was  left,  that 
same  season,  at  the  house  of  a  family  cut  off  by  the  Indians,  and 
which  served  to  alarm  the  inhabitants,  and  to  call  out  the  militia  for 
their  protection.  It  ran  thus  : 

"  CAPTAIN  CRESAP  :  What  did  you  kill  my  people  on  Yellow  Creek 
for  ?  The  white  people  killed  my  kin  at  Conestoga,  a  great  while 
ago,  and  I  thought  nothing  of  that.  But  you  killed  my  kin  again 
on  Yellow  Creek,  and  took  my  cousin  prisoner.  Then  I  thought  I 
must  kill,  too  ;  and  I  have  been  to  war  three  times  since.  But  the 
Indians  are  not  angry — only  myself. 

"CAPTAIN  JOHN  LOGAN." 

There  was  a  chief  among  the  Shawanese  more  renowned  as  a 
warrior  than  even  Logan  at  that  time.  Cornstalk  was  his  name, 
and  to  him  seems  to  have  fallen  the  principal  direction  of  the  war 
which  was  now  begun.  We  do  not  propose  to  give  a  detailed  his 
tory  of  the  fierce  struggle  which  followed ;  but  some  account  of  the 
great  battle  at  Point  Pleasant  cannot  be  uninteresting. 

General  Lewis,  with  eleven  hundred  men,  gave  battle  to  fifteen 
hundred  savage  warriors,  under  Logan,  Cornstalk,  Ellinipsico  (Corn 
stalk's  son,)  Red  Eagle,  and  other  mighty  chiefs  of  the  tribes  of  the 
Delawares,  Shawanese,  Cayugas,  Wyandots,  and  Mingoes.  The 

247 


56  TALES    AND    TBADITION8. 

battle  began  a  little  after  sunrise,  on  a  narrow  point  of  land,  between 
the  Ohio  and  the  Great  Kanawha  rivers.  The  breastworks  of  the 
Indians,  constructed  of  brushwood,  extended  from  river  to  river  ; 
their  plan  of  attack  was  the  best  conceivable,  for  in  the  event  of 
victory  on  their  part,  not  a  Virginian  would  have  escaped.  They 
had  stationed  men  on  both  sides  of  the  river,  to  prevent  the  escape 
of  such  as  might  attempt  it,  by  swimming  from  the  apex  of  the  tri 
angle  made  by  the  confluence  of  the  two  rivers.  The  Virginians, 
like  their  opponents,  covered  themselves  with  trees,  or  whatever 
shelter  offered  ;  but  the  Indians  had  every  advantage.  Hour  after 
hour  the  battle  laste.d,  the  Indians  slowly  retreating  to  their  breast 
works,  while  the  Virginians  fought  with  desperate  courage,  for  life 
itself  was  at  stake  for  all  of  them.  Colonel  Lewis,  brother  of  the 
commanding  General,  soon  fell,  under  the  fire  to  which  his  uniform 
particularly  exposed  him.  His  division  was  broken,  while  another 
division,  under  Colonel  Fleming,  was  attacked  at  the  same  moment, 
and  the  Colonel  received  two  balls  in  his  left  wrist,  but  continued 
to  exercise  his  command  with  the  greatest  coolness.  His  voice  was 
continually  heard  :  "  Advance— outflank  the  enemy  ;  get  between 
them  and  the  river.  Don't  lose  an  inch  of  ground  !"  But  his  men 
were  about  to  be  outflanked  by  the  body  which  had  just  defeated 
Lewis,  when  the  arrival  of  Colonel  Field's  division  turned  the  for 
tune  of  the  day,  but  not  without  severe  loss.  Colonel  Fleming  was 
again  wounded  by  a  shot  through  the  lungs,  and  Colonel  Field  was 
killed  while  leading  on  his  men. 

The  Indians  fought  with  an  equal  bravery.  Tlue  voice  of  Corn 
stalk  was  often  heard  during  the  day,  above  the  din  of  strife,  calling 
on  his  warriors  in  these  words  :  "  Be  strong  !  be  strong  !"  and  when, 
by  the  repeated  charge  of  the  whites,  some  of  his  men  began  to 
waver,  he  is  said  to  have  sunk  his  hatchet  in  the  brain  of  one  who 
was  cowardly  attempting  to  retreat. 

General  Lewis  finally  decided  the  contest  by  getting  three  com 
panies  of  men  into  the  rear  of  the  Indians;  these  companies  got  un 
observed  to  their  destination  upon  Crooked  Creek,  a  little  stream 
running  into  the  Kanawha,  whose  high,  wood-covered  banks  shel 
tered  them,  while  they  made  a  furious  attack  upon  the  backs  of  the 
Indians,  who,  thinking  reinforcements  had  arrived,  fled  across  the 
248 


THE    PEACE    TREATY.  59 

Ohio,  and  immediately  took  up  their  march  for  their  towns  on  the 
Scioto.     It  was  sunset  when  the  battle  ended. 

There  was  a  kind  of  stratagem  used  in  this  contest,  which  was 
more  than  once  practiced  by  the  experienced  Virginia  riflemen,  dur 
ing  their  fight  with  the  savages.  The  soldiers  in  Colonel  Fleming's 
corps  would  conceal  themselves  behind  a  tree,  or  some  other  shelter, 
and  then  hold  out  their  caps  from  behind,  which  the  Indians,  seeing, 
would  mistake  as  covering  the  heads  of  their  opponents,  and  shoot 
at  them.  The  cap  being  dropped  at  the  moment,  the  Indian  would 
dart  out  from  his  covert  to  scalp  his  victim,  and  thus  meet  a  sure 
death  from  the  tomahawk  of  his  adversary.  This  game  was  prac 
ticed  only  by  the  "prime  riflemen,"  accustomed  to  a  backwoods 
life. 

After  this  signal  defeat,  the  Indians  were  prepared  to  treat  for 
peace.  General  Lewis,  after  burying  his  dead,  took  up  his  perilous 
and  difficult  march,  his  troops  eager  to  exterminate  the  Indians  ; 
but  Governor  Dunmore,  having  received  numerous  offers  of  peace, 
finally  ordered  him  to  retreat.  Lord  Dunmore,  with  a  force  equal 
to  that  of  Lewis,  was  now  at  Chilicothe,  where  he  began  a  treaty, 
conducted  on  the  part  of  the  whites  with  great  distrust,  who  never 
admitted  but  a  few  Indians  at  a  time  into  their  encampment.  The 
business  was  commenced  by  Cornstalk,  in  a  speech  of  great  length, 
in  which  he  charged  upon  the  whites  the  main  cause  of  the  war ; 
and  mainly  in  consequence  of  the  murder  of  Logan's  family.  A 
treaty,  however,  was  the  result  of  this  conference,  and  this  confer 
ence  was  the  result  of  the  Mingo  chief's  famous  speech,  since  known 
throughout  both  hemispheres.  It  was  not  delivered  in  Lord  Dun- 
more's  camp,  for,  although  desiring  peace,  Logan  would  not  meet 
the  whites  in  council,  but  remained  in  his  cabin  in  sullen  silence, 
until  a  messenger  was  sent  to  him  with  the  treaty,  to  know  if  he 
consented  to  its  articles.  To  this  messenger  he  pronounced  that 
memorable  speech  : 

"  I  appeal  to  any  white  man  to  say  if  he  ever  entered  Logan's 
cabin  hungry,  and  I  gave  him  not  meat ;  if  he  ever  came  cold  and 
naked,  and  I  clothed  him  not. 

"  During  the  course  of  the  last  long,  bloody  war,  Logan  remained 
idle  in  his  cabin,  an  advocate  for  peace.  Such  was  my  love  for  the 

251 


60  TALES   AND    TRADITIONS. 

whites,  that  my  countrymen  pointed  as  they  passed,  and  said  :  '  Lo 
gan  is  the  friend  of  the  white  man.' 

"  I  had  even  thought  to  have  lived  with  you,  but  for  the  injuries 
of  one  man.  Colonel  Cresap,  the  last  spring,  in  cold  blood,  and  un 
provoked,  murdered  all  the  relations  of  Logan,  not  even  sparing  his 
women  and  children. 

"  There  was  not  a  drop  of  ray  blood  in  the  veins  of  any  living 
creature.  This  called  on  me  for  revenge ;  I  have  sought  it.  I  have 
killed  many — I  have  fully  glutted  my  vengeance.  For  my  country 
I  rejoice  at  the  beams  of  peace.  But  do  not  harbor  a  thought  that 
mine  is  the  joy  of  fear.  Logan  never  felt  fear.  He  will  not  turn 
on  his  heel  to  save  his  life.  Who  is  there  to  mourn  for  Logan  ? 
Not  one  !" 

Cornstalk,  a  chief  excelling  even  Logan  in  natural  nobility  of 
character,  and  great  bravery,  who  conducted  the  battle  and  the 
treaty,  lost  his  life  within  a  year  from  that  time,  under  circumstances 
painful  to  all  lovers  of  justice. 

Upon  the  breaking  out  of  the  Revolution,  the  year  following,  the 
British  Government,  through  their  agents,  made  the  most  strenuous 
efforts  to  induce  the  Indians  to  take  up  the  tomahawk  in  behalf  of 
the  king,  and  were  but  too  successful.  Cornstalk,  however,  actuated 
by  a  high-toned  feeling  of  repugnance  at  the  idea  of  breaking  his 
plighted  faith,  and  foreseeing  the  inevitable  issue  of  the  struggle — 
being,  moreover,  a  firm  and  consistent  friend  of  the  Americans— re 
fused  to  take  any  part  in  the  contest,  and  exerted  the  utmost  of  his 
influence  to  prevent  his  tribe  from  joining  the  coalition.  His  efforts 
proved  futile,  however,  and  the, influence  of  British  presents,  and  the 
example  of  the  neighboring  tribes,  had  the  effect  which  he  most 
dreaded.  He  did  not  live  to  see  the  Result  of  the  struggle,  being 
killed  on  the  spot  where  he  had  but  a  year  before  fought  so  bravely 
in  defense  of  his  home  and  the  graves  of  his  sires.  After  the  truce 
between  the  tribes  and  Governor  Duumore  had  been  agreed  upon,  a 
fort  was  erected  at  Point  Pleasant  to  commemorate  the  battle  and 
keep  the  Indians  in  check,  and  to  this  fort  Cornstalk,  after  finding 
that  his  efforts  to  preserve  that  compact  intact  would  be  unavailing, 
repaired  to  explain  the  position  of  affairs  to  its  commanding  officer, 
Captain  Arbuckle,  and  take  his  advice  as  to  what  course  he  should 
352 


CORNSTALK   REFUSES   TO   JOIN    THE    ENGLISH.  61 

pursue.  Red-hawk,  the  Delaware  chief,  who  had  also  fought  so 
bravely  at  Point  Pleasant,  and  who  was  likewise  opposed  to  resuming 
the  hatchet,  accompanied  him  in  his  visit.  The  chieftain  explained 
in  the  fullest  manner  the  state  of  affairs  among  the  Indians,  and  in 
formed  Arbuckle  that  he  should  be  unable  to  restrain  his  tribe,  who 
seemed  determined  to  dig  up  the  hatchet,  and  once  more  commence 
an  exterminating  war  against  the  settlers.  Under  these  circumstances, 
Arbuckle  felt  himself  justified  in  detaining  the  chief  and  his  com 
panion  as  hostages,  supposing  that  the  fact  of  their  principal  leader 
being  in  the  hands  of  the  Americans  would  have  the  effect  of  deter 
ring  his  tribe  from  active  hostilities.  Thinking  themselves  that  such 
a  result  might  follow,  and  earnestly  desirous  of  not  taking  part  in 
the  contest,  which  they  knew  must  follow  if  they  returned  to  their 
people,  they  remained  willing  captives  in  the  hands  of  Arbuckle,  lit 
tle  dreaming  of  the  fate  which  awaited  them,  and  giving  all  the  in 
formation  which  they  possessed  regarding  the  anticipated  movements 
of  the  various  tribes,  and  of  the  British  agents  among  them. 

The  young  chief,  Ellinipsico,  becoming  anxious  at  the  protracted 
absence  of  his  father,  set  out  in  search  of  him,  and,  having  traced 
him  to  the  fort,  he  made  his  appearance  on  the  opposite  side  of  the 
river,  and,  being  recognized  by  the  chieftain,  permission  was  given 
him  to  enter  the  fort,  where  the  meeting  between  them  was  of  the 
most  affecting  nature.  They  entertained  for  each  other  the  warmest 
feelings  of  affection,  which  the  young  man  displayed  on  the  present 
occasion,  by  the  enthusiastic  manner  in  which  he  embraced  his  parent, 
and  sought  to  show  his  joy  at  meeting  him. 

The  hostages  had  been  quartered  in  one  of  the  cabins  within  the 
pickets  of  the  fort,  which,  from  its  position,  afforded  safety  and  se 
curity — although  they  were  not  confined  thereto,  but  allowed  the 
range  of  the  iuclosure,  and  thither  they  bent  their  steps,  and  father 
and  son  sat  down  to  take  counsel  in  the  present  state  of  affairs. 
Ellinipsico,  in  common  with  the  young  men  of  his  tribe,  was  in 
favor  of  joining  in  the  war,  being  anxious  to  distinguish  himself, 
and  win  his  way  by  feats  of  arms  to  the  proud  position  which  would 
be  his  own  inheritance  on  the  death  of  his  father.  From  such  a 
course,  Cornstalk  endeavored  to  dissuade  him  with  all  the  eloquence 
for  which  he  was  distinguished — but  with  little  effect.  The  young 

253 


63  TALES    AND    TKADITIONS. 

man  felt  the  unconquerable  enmity  of  his  race  toward  the  white 
men,  and  burned  to  wash  out  in  their  blood  the  many  wrongs  and 
injuries  he  had  received  at  their  hands.  The  afternoon  and  evening 
having  been  spent  in  conversation  upon  this  subject,  without  any  re 
sult,  the  chieftain  and  his  son  laid  down  to  sleep  on  the  floor  of  their 
cabin— the  last  sleep  they  were  destined  to  take  this  side  of  eternity. 

On  the  morning  after  the  arrival  of  Ellinipsico,  two  men  of  the 
garrison,  named  Hamilton  and  Gillmore,  started  out  to  hunt  on  the 
opposite  side  of  the  Kanawha  river,  not  dreaming  of  any  danger  to 
be  apprehended  from  the  Indians,  hostilities  not  having  as  yet  com 
menced.  On  their  return  about  noon,  they  were  fired  upon  by  two 
Indians,  who  had  come  across  the  Ohio  to  reconnoiter  the  fort,  and 
hidden  themselves  in  the  weeds  and  brush,  and  Gillmore  was  killed. 
Colonel  Stewart  and  Captain  Arbuckle  were  standing  on  the  opposite 
shore  when  the  firing  was  heard,  and  expressed  their  surprise  to  one 
another  at  the  occurrence,  as  strict  orders  had  been  given  against  all 
firing  in  the  immediate  vicinity  of  tUe/fiprt.  While  anxiously  await 
ing  a  solution  to  the  mystery,  they  discovered  Hamilton  on  the  other 
bank,  who  called  to  them,  told  them  that  Gillmore  had  been  killed, 
and  entreated  them  to  send  a  canoe  across  to  his  relief.  Captain 
Hall  was  dispatched  with  several  men  to  the  relief  of  the  fugitive, 
and  in  a  few  moments  they  stood  by  his  side. 

A  careful  search  in  the  adjacent  bushes  discovered  the  body  of 
their  comrade,  shot  through  the  head,  and  scalped.  Placing  the 
bloody  corpse  in  the  canoe,  they  recrossed  the  river,  and  with  feel 
ings  of  dire  revenge  demanded  the  lives  of  the  hostages  in  the  fort. 
Pale  with  rage,  and  terribly  excited  at  the  murder  of  one  of  his  com 
panions,  Captain  Hall  placed  himself  at  the  head  of  his  men,  and 
marched  toward  the  fort,  threatening  death  to  the  unarmed  hostages. 
Captain  Arbuckle  and  several  of  the  officers  threw  themselves  in 
their  way,  and  endeavored  to  prevent  the  execution  of  their  blood 
thirsty  purpose  ;  but  this  only  excited  the  passions  of  the  soldiers  to 
the  most  ungovernable  pitch,  and  cocking  their  pieces,  they  threat 
ened  death  to  all  who  interfered  between  them  and  their  victims. 
Arbuckle  was  forced  to  give  way,  and  witness  a  scene  he  was  unable 
to  prevent,  and  the  exasperated  men  rushed  into  the  fort.  The 
interpreter's  wife,  who  had  been  a  captive  among  the  Indians,  and 
254 


CORNSTALK'S  DEATH.  63 

felt  an  affection  for  them,  rushed  to  the  cabin  to  inform  them  that 
Captain  Hull's  men  were  advancing  to  put  them  to  death,  because 
they  entertained  the  idea  that  the  Indians  who  had  killed  their  com 
rade  had  come  with  Ellinipsico  the  day  previous.  This  Ellinipsico 
earnestly  denied,  averring  that  he  had  come  alone,  with  the  only 
purpose  of  meeting  his  father,  and  without  dreaming  of  hostility. 
The  clamor  without  announced  the  rapid  approach  of  their  execu 
tioners,  and  Ellinipsico,  being  highly  excited  at  the  idea  of  being  put 
to  death  for  a  wrong  he  had  not  committed,  showed  considerable 
agitation.  The  veteran  chief,  however,  had  faced  death  on  too  many 
battle-fields  to  be  alarmed  at  his  approach  now,  and  endeavored  to 
reassure  his  son,  and  induce  him  to  die  as  became  the  child  of  such 
a  sire.  "  If  the  Great  Spirit,"  said  he,  "  has  decided  that  I  should 
die,  my  son,  and  has  sent  you  here  to  die  with  me,  you  should  sub 
mit  to  your  fate  as  becomes  a  warrior  and  a  chief."  With  courage 
revived  by  the  exhortation  of  his  father,  Ellinipsico  prepared  to  meet 
with  composure  the  death  whjgjjjihe  saw  was  inevitable.  Covering 
his  face  with  his  hands  that  lie  might  not  see  his  executioners,  he 
calmly  awaited  the  stroke  which  was  to  deprive  him  of  life,  and  send 
him  to  the  "  happy  hunting  grounds  "  of  his  race.  As  the  door  of 
the  cabin  was  burst  open,  Cornstalk  rose  with  dignity,  and  presented 
his  breast  to  the  rifles  of  the  infuriated  soldiers.  Seven  bullets 
pierced  his  noble  form,  and  he  died  without  a  struggle.  His  son  was 
killed  at  the  same  instant,  and  both  fell  to  the  ground  together. 
Red-hawk,  who  had  endeavored  to  hide  himself,  was  dragged  from 
his  place  of  concealment  and  killed,  as  was  another  Indian  who  was 
in  the  fort,  and  who  was  fearfully  mangled  in  the  struggle. 

"  Thus,"  says  Withers,  in  his  Indian  chronicles,  "  perished  the 
mighty  Cornstalk,  sachem  of  the  Shawnees,  and  king  of  the  North 
ern  confederacy  in  1774— a  chief  remarkable  for  many  great  and 
good  qualities.  He  was  disposed  to  be,  at  all  times,  the  friend  of  the 
white  men,  as  he  was  ever  the  advocate  of  honorable  peace.  But 
when  his  country's  wrongs  summoned  him  to  the  battle,  he  was  the 
thunderbolt  of  war,  and  made  his  enemies  feel  the  weight  of  his 
arm.  His  noble  bearing,  his  generous  and  disinterested  attachment 
to  the  colonies,  his  anxiety  to  preserve  the  frontiers  of  Virginia  from 
desolation  and  death,  ull  conspired  to  win  for  him  the  esteem  and 

255 


64  TALES    AND    TRADITIONS. 

respect  of  others  ;  while  the  untimely  and  perfidious  manner  of  his 
death  caused  a  deep  and  lasting  feeling  of  regret  to  p  re  vail  e  the 
bosoms,  even  of  tlu>se  who  were  enemies  to  his  nation,  and  excited 
the  indignation  of  all  toward  his  inhuman  murderers." 

We  would  not  be  thought  the  apologist  for  a  deed  like  that  which 
has  been  narrated  ;  but,  at  the  same  time,  cannot  join  the  cry  which 
is  raised  against  it  by  those  authors  who  stigmatize  it  is  a  "cruel, 
bloodthirsty,  inhuman,  fieudlike  murder."  All  the  harshest  terms 
in  our  language  have  been  hurled  at  the  heads  of  those  who  were 
engaged  in  it,  and  with  great  injustice.  Cruel  and  bloodthirsty  it 
undoubtedly  was,  but  it  was  the  natural  consequence  of  the  war 
which  was  waged  between  the  white  and  red-men,  in  which  revenge 
for  injuries  inflicted  was  held  to  be  a  sacred  duty.  Stone,  with  great 
want  of  candor,  omits  to  mention  the  fact  that  Hall  and  his  com 
panions  entertained  the  idea  that  the  Indians  who  had  accompanied 
Ellinipsico  had  killed  their  fellow  soldier  ;  but,  in  language  of  the  severest 
cast,  wrould  lead  us  to  suppose  their  act  a  mean,  cowardly,  cold-blooded 
massacre.  He  says  :  "  A  party  of  ruffians  assembled,  under  command 
of  a  Captain  Hall — not  to  pursue  or  punish  the  perpetrators  of  the 
murder,  but  to  fall  upon  the  friendly  and  peaceable  Indians  in  the 
fort."  What  would  have  been  the  conduct  of  the  Indians  under 
similar  circumstances?  The  pages  of  his  own  work  exhibit  many 
instances  of  similar  cruelty  and  revengeful  practice  on  their  part; 
and  even  Brant  himself  is  not  free  from  it. 

True,  in  the  present  case,  the  perpetrators  were  white  men,  civil 
ized  and  enlightened  ;  but  in  the  long  and  bloody  wars  of  extermi 
nation  which  they  had  waged  with  the  savages,  they  had  learned 
their  mode  of  warfare ;  in  fact,  they  could  not  hope  for  success  in 
any  other  way,  and  the  long  account  of  murders,  massacres,  burnings 
at  the  stake,  and  inhuman  tortures,  which,  even  at  the  present  day, 
thrill  the  blood  with  horror,  had  exasperated  the  feelings  of  those 
men  who  were  surrounded  by  the  actual  reality,  and  expected  no 
better  fate  themselves  at  the  hands  of  Indians,  should  they  be  so  un 
fortunate  as  to  be  captured,  and  they  lost  sight  of  the  dictates  of 
justice  in, the  all-powerful  and  blinding  spirit  of  revenge. 


256 


•\ 


S, 


TRADITIONS  AND  ROMANCE 


OF 


BORDER  AND  REVOLUTIONARY  TIMES. 


WOMEN  DEFENDING  THE  WAGON. 
CAPTIVITY  OF  JONATHAN  ALDER 
MOODY  THE  KEFUOEE. 
THE  LEAP  FOB  LIFE. 


YORK : 

BEADLE  AND  COMPANY,  PUBLISHERS, 

118  WILLIAM    STREET. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1864,  by 

BEADLE    AND    COMPANY, 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States  for  the 
Southern  District  of  New  York. 


(T.  5) 


THE 


WOMEN  DEFENDING  THE  WAGON. 


BETWEEN  the  Blue  Eidge  and  the  western  range  of  the  Alleghany 
Mountains,  in  the  northern  part  of  the  State  of  Virginia,  is  located 
Shenandoah  County,  which  derives  its  name  from  the  beautiful  river, 
one  branch  of  which  flows  through  its  entire  length,  from  south  to 
north.  Its  county  seat  is  Woodstock,  a  thriving  town,  with  a  popu 
lation  of  between  one  and  two  thousand  inhabitants.  This  place 
was  settled,  previous  to  the  French  and  Indian  war,  by  hardy  Ger 
man  yeomanry  from  Pennsylvania,  who  were  tempted  to  leave  the 
rugged  hills  of  the  Keystone  State,  by  the  glowing  reports  which  had 
reached  their  ears  of  the  surprising  fertility  and  beauty  of  the  valley 
of  the  Shenandoah.  Gathering  up  their  household  goods,  they 
turned  their  backs  upon  the  homes  of  their  first  choice,  and  took 
their  way  through  pathless  forests  to  "  the  promised  land."  Arrived 
at  their  new  home,  they  selected  the  site  of  the  present  flourishing 
town  as  the  nucleus  of  the  settlement,  and  commenced,  with  a  will, 
the  laborious  task  of  felling  the  forest  and  the  erection  of  their  homes. 
A  stockade  fort  was  erected  as  a  protection  against  the  incursions 
of  predatory  bands  of  Indians.  A  short  time  sufficed  to  place  them- 
in  circumstances  which,  if  not  actually  flourishing,  were  compara 
tively  thrifty,  and  so  far  promising  as  to  the  future,  that  they  were 
led  to  look  forward  with  hope  to  a  long  continued  prosperity.  They 
were  a  plain,  frugal  and  industrious  people,  unacquainted  with  the 
luxuries  and  only  desiring  the  substantial  requisites  of  an  humble  life, 
which  were  furnished  in  abundance  by  the  fertile  soil  of  the  valley  hi 
which  they  had  taken  up  their  abode.  A  traveler  among  them 
during  the  French  and  Indian  war  thus  speaks  of  their  happy 
condition : 

261 


TALE8   AND    TRADITIONS. 

"  I  could  not  but  reflect  with  pleasure  upon  the  situation  of  these 
people,  and  think,  if  there  is  such  a  thing  as  true  happiness,  in  this 
life,  they  enjoy  it.  Far  from  the  bustle  of  the  world,  they  live  in  the 
most  delightful  climate  and  possess  the  richest  soil  imaginable.  They 
are  everywhere  surrounded  by  beautiful  prospects  and  sylvan  scenes. 
Lofty  mountains,  transparent  streams,  falls  of  water,  rich  valleys  and 
majestic  woods — the  whole  interspersed  with  an  infinite  variety  of 
flowering  shrubs — constitute  the  landscape  surrounding  them.  They 
are  subject  to  few  diseases,  are  generally  robust,  and  live  in  perfect 
liberty.  They  are  ignorant  of  want,  and  are  acquainted  with  few 
vices.  Their  inexperience  of  the  elegancies  of  life  precludes  any 
regret  that  they  have  not  the  means  of  enjoying  them ;  but  they  pos 
sess  what  many  princes  would  give  half  their  dominions  for — health, 
content  and  tranquility  of  mind." 

Among  others  who  had  been  attracted  to  this  valley  by  the  glow 
ing  accounts  of  its  fertility  and  comparative  security,  were  two  heads 
of  families  by  the  names  of  Sheits  and  Taylor.  The  former  was  of 
German  parentage,  the  latter  of  English  birth,  but  having  both  mar 
ried  American  women,  and  being  drawn  together  by  that  bond  of 
sympathy  which,  in  a  new  country,  where  danger  is  a  common  herit 
age,  unites  with  a  stronger  tie  than  that  of  blood — they  were  more 
like  one.  family  than  two  separate  households. 

Being  driven  from  their  homes  by  the  massacre  of  two  of  their 
neighbors  and  their  families,  they  hastily  collected  a  few  necessaries, 
placed  them,  with  their  wives  and  children,  in  a  wagon,  to  which 
was  attached  their  respective  horses,  and  started  in  search  of  a  new 
home.  Woodstock  was  the  nearest  town,  or  station,  where  there 
was  a  fort,  and  toward  that  place  they  directed  their  steps. 

The  family  of  Taylor  embraced  himself,  wife,  and  three  children, 
while  that  of  Sheits  numbered  but  three — himself,  wife,  and  one  child. 
The  few  articles  which  the  limited  room  in  the  wagon,  and  the  hur 
ried  nature  of  their  departure  allowed  them  to  remove,  were  a  chest 
of  drawers,  which  was  a  gift  from  the  parents  of  Mrs.  T.,  a  feather 
bed,  also  a  parental  gift  to  Mrs.  8.,  a  brass  kettle  or  two,  some  few 
culinary  articles,  and  the  axes  and  rifles  of  the  men.  These  and  their 
horses,  and  a  atout  form  wagon,  were  all  they  had  saved,  yet  they 
were  well  content  to  come  off  with  th^ir  lives,  and  trudged  along, 


THE    WOMEN    DEFENDING    THE    WAGON.  7 

satisfied  if  they  could  but  reach  a  haven  of  safety  from  the  barbarities 
which  had  been  inflicted  upon  their  less  fortunate  neighbors  and 
friends. 

The  greater  portion  of  their  way  lay  through  the  forest,  whe*fr 
every  sound  to  their  affrighted  ears  gave  token  of  an  enemy  lurking 
in  their  path,  and  the  rustling  of  a  leaf,  or  the  sighing  wind,  awoke 
their  fears,  and  called  up  their  latent  courage.  This  had  been  passed, 
however,  in  safety,  and  they  had  reached  the  brow  of  the  hill  from 
whence  they  had  a  view  of  the  beautiful  valley  below,  where  they 
hoped  to  find  a  haven  of  rest.  Pausing  for  a  moment  to  admire  the 
scene  which  opened  before  them,  they  gave  vent  to  their  feelings  in 
eulogies  upon  the  lovely  landscape,  and  words  of  encouragement  to 
their  wives  and  children.  Alas,  as  they  spoke,  the  deadly  rifle  of  a 
concealed  foe  was  leveled  full  at  their  breasts,  and  the  savage  red 
skin  was  thirsting  for  their  blood,  within  a  few  feet  of  them.  Hidden 
by  the  thick  underbrush  which  grew  up  by  the  side  of  the  road,  five 
tawny  warriors,  painted  and  bedecked  with  their  war  feathers,  lay 
crouching  like  wild  beasts,  ready  to  spring  upon  their  prey.  Just  aa 
they  started  to  resume  their  way,  and  descend  the  hill  toward  the 
settlement,  the  crack  of  two  rifles,  the  whizzing  of  two  leaden  mes 
sengers,  and  the  fall  of  their  husbands,  alarmed  the  women  and 
widowed  them  at  the  same  instant.  The  aim  had  been  sure,  and 
both  the  men  fell  without  a  groan,  pierced  through  the  heart  with  a 
bullet  from  an  unnerring  rifle.  Quick  as  the  flash  from  a  summer 
cloud  were  all  their  hopes  of  safety  and  future  happiness  blasted, 
stricken  to  the  earth  with  the  fall  of  their  husbands.  No  cry  escaped 
tiie  now  bereaved  women.  Their  feelings  were  too  deep  for  utter 
ance,  nor  was  there  any  time  for  grief  or  repining.  Left  in  an  instant 
self-dependent,  they  looked  around  for  the  foe  and  for  means  of 
defense.  Nothing  was  within  reach  but  the  axes  of  their  husbands ; 
these  they  seized,  awaiting  the  onset  of  the  savages.  They  had  not 
long  to  wait.  Pushing  aside  the  foliage,  the  five  warriors  sprang, 
with  a  grunt  of  satisfaction,  from  the  thicket  into  the  road,  and  made 
for  the  wagon  to  secure  their  prisoners.  The  first  who  came  up 
seized  the  son  of  Mrs.  Taylor,  and  endeavored  to  drag  him  from  the 
wagon,  but  the  little  fellow  resisted  manfully,  looking,  meanwhile,  up 
into  his  mother's  face,  as  if  to  implore  protection  at  her  hands.  The 

2C3 


8  TALE8   AND    TRADITIONS. 

appeal  was  not  lost  upon  her.  Seizing,  with  both  hands,  the  axe  of 
her  husband,  and  swinging  it  around  her  head,  she  brought  it  down, 
with  all  the  vengeful  force  of  her  arm,  upon  the  shoulder  of  the  In 
dian,  inflicting  a  wound  which  sent  him  off  howling  with  pain. 
Turning  to  another,  she  served  him  in  like  manner,  while  Mrs. 
Sheits  had  sent  a  third  back  to  his  lair  with  a  severe  blow  across 
the  hand  which  severed  all  his  fingers.  The  other  two  were  wise 
enough  to  keep  without  the  reach  of  their  blows,  but  endeavored  to 
intimidate  them  by  terrific  yells  and  brandished  tomahawks.  No 
thing  daunted,  however,  the  heroic  women  maintained  their  attitude 
of  defense,  until  wearied  of  their  efforts,  and,  fearing  the  approach  of 
relief  from  the  garrison  of  the  fort,  the  two  unwounded  Indians 
rushed  into  the  thicket  for  their  rifles,  to  end  the  conflict.  Taking 
advantage  of  this  opportunity,  the  women  started  the  horses,  and 
the  red-skins,  not  daring  to  pursue  them,  they  were  permitted  to 
reach  the  fort  in  safety,  from  which  a  party  set  out  to  bring  in  the 
dead  and  scalped  bodies  of  their  husbands. 

Stories  of  such  danger  and  fortitude  as  this  can  be  but  dimly  real 
ized  by  the  women  of  to-day.  Yet  the  annals  of  our  early  history 
are  all  too  painfully  darkened  by  such  records ;  and  it  is  well  for  the 
heroes  of  the  prosperous  present  to  know  through  what  hardships 
this  rich  inheritance  was  secured  to  them.  Emigration  did  not  stop 
in  Virginia  any  more  than  it  had  rested  in  Pennsylvania  : 

"  Westward  to  the  star  of  empire  takes  its  way ;" 

and  the  glorious  Valley  of  the  Mississippi  won  forward  the  daring 
steps  of  the  pioneers.  It  is  known  how  long  and  terrible  was  the 
contest  by  which  Kentucky  was  wrested,  inch  by  inch,  from  her  an 
cient  owners,  until  her  lovely  soil,  baptized  in  sorrow,  received  the 
name  of  the  "  dark  and  bloody  ground."  Here,  as  always  where 
there  is  a  chance  for  her  development,  and  she  is  permitted  to  play 
her  free  part  by  the  side  of  man,  woman  did  her  share  of  the  oner 
ous  work,  and  had  her  share  of  the  perils.  One  of  the  most  terrible 
of  the  family  histories  of  that  period  is  the  following,  of  the  house 
hold  of  a  widow,  by  the  name  of  Shanks,  full  particulars  of  which 
are  given  in  the  history  of  Kentucky. 

On  the  night  of  the  10th  of  April,  1787,  the  house  of  Mrs.  Shanks, 
on  Cooper's  Run,  in  Bourbon  County,  was  attacked  by  Indians.  This 
2G4 


THE    ATTACK.  9 

house,  which  was  a  double  cabin,  consisting  of  two  rooms,  with  an 
open  way  between,  contained,  at  the  time  the  assault  was  made,  be 
sides  the  widow  herself,  a  widowed  daughter,  three  other  daughters, 
a  young  girl,  and  two  sons  of  adult  age.  Although  the  hour  was 
near  midnight,  one  of  the  young  men  still  remained  up,  and  in  the 
opposite  room  a  sister  was  busily  engaged  at  the  loom. 

An  hour  before,  while  they  were  yet  unconscious  of  the  actual  pres 
ence  of  Indians,  the  suspicions  of  the  son  was  aroused  by  the  cry  of 
owls,  hooting  to  each  other  in  the  adjoining  wood,  in  a  rather  un 
usual  manner,  and  by  the  terror  and  excitement  of  the  horses,  who 
were  enclosed,  as  customary,  in  a  pound  near  the  house. 

Several  times  the  young  man  was  on  the  point  of  awaking  his 
brother,  but  as  often  refrained,  through  fear  of  being  ridiculed  for  his 
timidity.  At  length  hasty  steps  were  heard  without,  and  then  came 
several  sharp  knocks  at  the  door,  accompanied  by  the  usual  question 
of  the  wayfarer,  "Who  keeps  this  house?"  spoken  in  very  good 
English. 

He  hastily  advanced  to  withdraw  the  bolt  which  secured  the  doorf 
supposing  the  new  comer  to  be  some  benighted  settler  jr,  when  his 
mother,  whose  greater  experience  had  probably  detected  the  Indian 
accent,  instantly  sprang  out  of  bed,  and  warned  her  son  that  the  men 
outside  were  savages. 

The  other  son  being  by  this  time  aroused,  the  two  young  men, 
seizing  their  rifles,  which  were  always  charged,  prepared  to  repel  the 
enemy.  Conscious  that  their  true  character  was  discovered,  the  In 
dians  now  strove  to  break  in  the  door ;  but  a  single  shot  from  the 
loop-hole  compelled  them  to  shift  their  point  of  attack,  when,  unfor 
tunately,  they  discovered  the  door  of  the  other  cabin,  which  contained 
the  three  daughters. 

By  some  oversight  hi  the  construction  of  the  cabin,  none  of  the 
loops  enabled  the  brothers  to  cover  the  door  of  the  room  in  which 
their  sisters  were.  The  Indians  soon  forced  it  open  by  means  of  rails 
taken  from  the  yard  fence.  The  girls  being  thus  placed  at  the  mercy 
of  the  savages,  one  was  instantly  secured ;  but  the  eldest  defended 
herself  desperately  with  a  knife,  and  succeeded  in  mortally  wounding 
a  savage  before  she  was  tomahawked.  The  youngest  girl  darted  out 
into  the  yard,  and  might  have  escaped  in  the  darkness ;  but  the  poor 

265 


10  TALES    AND    TRADITIONS. 

creature  ran  around  the  house,  and,  wringing  her  hands  in  terror, 
kept  crying  out  that  her  sisters  were  killed. 

The  brothers,  agonized  almost  to  madness  by  her  cries,  were  pre 
pared  to  sally  out  to  her  assistance,  when  their  mother  stayed  them, 
and  calmly  declared  that  the  child  must  be  abandoned  to  her  fate. 
The  next  instant,  the  child  uttered  a  loud  scream,  followed  by  a  few 
faint  moans,  and  then  all  was  silent. 

That  portion  of  the  house  which  had  been  occupied  by  the  daugh 
ters  was  now  set  on  fire,  and  the  flames  soon  communicating  to  the 
opposite  room,  the  brothers  were  compelled  to  fling  open  the  door, 
and  attempt  to  seek  safety  by  flight. 

The  old  lady,  supported  by  her  eldest  son,  sought  to  cross  the 
fence  at  one  point,  while  the  widowed  daughter,  with  her  child  in  her 
arms,  and  attended  by  the  younger  of  the  brothers,  ran  in  a  different 
direction.  The  blazing  roof  shed  a  light  over  the  yard  but  little  in 
ferior  to  that  of  day,  and  the  savages  were  distinctly  seen  awaiting 
the  approach  of  their  victims.  The  old  lady  was  permitted  to  reach 
the  stile  unmolested,  but,  in  the  act  of  crossing,  received  several  balls 
in  her  breast,  and  fell  dead.  Her  son  providentially  remained  unhurt, 
and,  by  extraordinary  agility,  effected  his  escape.  The  other  brother, 
being  assailed  by  the  Indians,  defended  his  sister  desperately  for  some 
time,  and  drew  the  attention  of  the  savages  so  closely  to  himself,  that 
she  succeeded  in  eluding  their  vigilance.  The  brave  and  devoted 
young  man  was  less  fortunate ;  he  fell  beneath  repeated  blows  from 
the  tomahawks  of  his  enemies,  and  was  found  at  daylight,  scalped 
and  mangled  hi  a  most  shocking  manner. 

Of  the  whole  family,  consisting  of  eight  persons  when  the  attack 
commenced,  only  three  escaped.  Four  were  killed  on  the  spot,  arid 
one,  the  second  daughter,  carried  off  prisoner. 

The  alarm  was  soon  given,  and  by  daylight  thirty  men  were  as 
sembled  under  Colonel  Edwards,  who  pursued  the  Indian  trail  at  a 
gallop,  tracking  the  footsteps  of  the  savages  in  the  snow.  The  trail 
led  directly  into  the  mountainous  country  bordering  upon  Licking,  and 
afforded  evidences  of  great  precipitation  on  the  part  of  the  Indians. 
Unfortunately,  a  hound  had  been  permitted  to  accompany  the  whites, 
and,  as  the  trail  became  fresh,  and  the  scent  warm,  she  pursued  it 
with  eagerness,  baying  loudly  and  giving  alarm  to  the  savages.  The 
266 


THE    PURSUIT.  11 

consequence  of  this  imprudence  was  soon  displayed.  The  enemy, 
finding  the  pursuit  keen,  and  perceiving  the  strength  of  their  pris 
oner  beginning  to  fail,  instantly  sank  their  tomahawks  in  her  head, 
and  left  her,  still  warm  and  bleeding,  upon  the  snow.  As  the  whites 
came  up,  she  retained  strength  enough  to  wave  her  hand  in  token  of 
recognition,  and  appeared  desirous  of  giving  them  some  information 
in  regard  to  the  enemy ;  but  her  strength  was  too  far  gone.  Her 
brother  sprang  from  his  horse,  and  endeavored  to  stop  the  effusion 
of  blood,  but  in  vain.  She  gave  him  her  hand,  muttered  some  inar 
ticulate  words,  and  expired  within  two  minutes  after  the  arrival  of 
the  party. 

The  pursuit  was  renewed  with  additional  ardor,  and,  in  twenty 
minutes,  the  enemy  was  within  view.  They  had  taken  possession  of 
a  narrow  ridge,  magnifying  their  numbers  in  the  eyes  of  the  whites, 
by  running  rapidly  from  tree  to  tree,  and  maintaining  a  steady  yell 
in  their  most  appalling  tones. 

The  pursuers,  however,  were  too  experienced  to  be  deceived  by  so 
common  an  artifice.  Being  satisfied  that  the  number  of  the  enemy 
must  be  inferior  to  their  own,  they  dismounted,  tied  their  horses,  and 
flanking  out  hi  such  a  manner  as  to  enclose  the  savages,  ascended 
as  rapidly  as  was  consistent  with  a  due  regard  to  the  shelter  of  their 
persons. 

The  firing  commenced,  and  now  they  discovered,  for  the  first  time, 
that  only  two  Indians  were  opposed  to  them.  They  had  voluntarily 
sacrificed  themselves  for  the  safety  of  the  main  body,  and  had  suc 
ceeded  in  delaying  pursuit  until  their  friends  could  reach  the  moun 
tains.  One  of  them  was  shot  dead,  and  the  other  was  badly 
wounded,  as  was  evident  from  the  blood  upon  his  blanket,  as  well  as 
that  which  filled  the  snow  for  a  considerable  distance.  The  pursuit 
was  recommenced,  and  urged  keenly  until  night,  when  the  trail  en 
tered  a  running  stream,  and  was  lost. 

We  know  of  nothing  more  powerfully  illustrating  the  life  led  by 
the  women  of  those  clays,  than  the  following  statements,  brief  and 
simple  as  they  are,  made  in  the  record  of  General  Samuel  Dale : 

"  About  this  time  Joe  Horn  and  Dave  Calhoun  went  to  their  clear 
ings  to  plant  corn,  very  imprudently  taking  their  wives  and  children 
with  them,  who  camped  in  the  field.  Being  both  off  hunting  one 

267 


12  TALKS    AND    TRADITIONS. 

day,  the  prowling  savages  made  a  clean  sweep  of  these  two  families. 
The  poor,  heart-stricken  husbands,  almost  crazy,  returned  to  the  fort, 
and  the  whole  night  was  passed  by  all  of  us  in  lamentations  and  vows 
of  vengeance. 

"  For  several  months  after  this,  we  were  not  troubled,  and  my  bro 
ther  and  myself  were  boarded  about  ten  miles  off,  at  Halbert  Mc- 
Clure's,  to  go  to  school.  Returning,  one  morning,  from  a  visit  home, 
we  fell  in  with  old  Mr.  Bush,  of  Castlewood  Fort,  who  informed  us 
that  he  saw  Shawnee  '  signs '  about,  and  that  we  must  go  back  to 
Glade  Hollow,  and  give  the  alarm.  Unfortunately,  father  had  left, 
the  day  before,  for  the  salt  works,  on  Holton  river,  and  mother  and 
the  children  were  alone.  About  nine  at  night,  we  saw  two  Indians 
approaching.  Mother  immediately  threw  a  bucket  full  of  water  on 
the  fire,  to  prevent  their  seeing  us,  made  us  lie  on  the  floor,  bolted 
and  barred  the  door,  and  posted  herself  there  with  an  ax  and  a  rifle. 
"We  never  knew  why  they  desisted  from  an  attack,  or  how  father  es 
caped,  who  rode  up  three  hours  afterward. 

"  In  two  or  three  days  all  of  us  set  out  for  Clinch  Mountain,  to 
the  wedding  of  Hoppy  Kincaid,  a  clever  young  fellow  from  Holston, 
and  Sally  McClure,  a  fine,  bouncing  girl  of  seventeen,  modest  and 
pretty,  yet  fearless  and  free.  We  knew  the  Shawnees  were  about — 
that  our  fort  and  household  effects  must  be  left  unguarded,  and  might 
probably  be  destroyed — that  we  incurred  the  risk  of  a  fight,  or  an 
ambuscade,  capture,  or  even  death,  on  the  road ;  but  in  those  days,  in 
that  wild  country,  folks  did  not  calculate  consequences  closely,  and 
the  temptation  to  a  frolic,  a  feast,  a  wedding,  a  dance  till  daylight, 
and  often  for  several  days  together,  was  not  to  be  resisted,  and  off  we 
went. 

"  In  half  an  hour  we  fell  in  with  Captain  Barnett,  and  twenty  men 
from  Holston,  who  warned  us  that  Indians  were  about,  and  that  he 
was  scouting  for  them.  Father,  ever  eager  for  a  fight,  joined  this 
company,  and  we  trudged  on  to  Clinch  Mountain.  Instead  of  the 
bridal  party,  the  well-spread  table,  the  ringing  laughter,  and  the  sound 
ing  feet  of  buxom  dancers,  we  found  a  pile  of  ashes  and  six  or  seven 
ghastly  corpses,  tomahawked  and  scalped  !  Poor  Hardy  McClure 
was  dead ;  several  others  lay  around.  One  daughter  was  still  breath- 
ingt  but  soon  expired.  Mrs.  McClure,  her  infant,  and  three  other 
208 


THE    ESCAPE.  13 

children,  including  Sally,  the  intended  bride,  had  been  carried  off  by 
the  savages.  They  soon  tore  the  poor  infant  from  its  mother's  arms, 
and  killed  it,  that  she  might  travel  faster. 

"  "While  they  were  scalping  this  child,  Peggy  McClure,  a  girl  twel 
years  old,  perceived  a  sink-hole  at  her  feet,  and  dropped  silently  into 
it.  It  communicated  with  a  ravine,  down  which  she  ran,  and  brought 
the  news  into  the  settlement.  The  Indians  were  too  apprehensive  of 
pursuit  to  search  for  her.  The  same  night  Sally,  who  had  been  tied 
and  forced  to  lie  down  between  two  warriors,  contrived  to  loosen  her 
thongs  and  make  her  escape.  She  struck  for  the  cane-brake,  then 
for  the  river,  and,  to  conceal  her  trail,  resolved  to  descend  it.  It  was 
deep  wading,  and  the  current  was  so  rapid,  she  had  to  fill  her  petti 
coat  with  gravel  to  steady  herself.  She  soon,  however,  recovered 
confidence,  returned  to  shore,  and  finally  reached  the  still-smoking 
homestead  about  dark  next  evening.  A  few  neighbors,  well  armed, 
had  just  buried  the  dead.  Kincaid  was  among  them.  The  last 
prayer  had  been  said  when  the  orphan  girl  stood  among  them,  and 
was  soon  in  the  arms  of  her  lover.  Resolved  to  leave  no  more  to 
chance,  at  his  entreaty,  and  by  the  advice  of  all,  the  weeping  girl 
gave  her  consent,  and,  by  the  grave  of  the  household,  and  near  the 
ruined  dwelling,  they -were  immediately  married." 

Can  imagination  add  anything  to  this  vivid  picture  ? 
269 


14  TALES   AND    TRADITIONS. 


CAPTIVITY  OF  JONATHAN  ALDER. 

THE  narrative  of  the  captivity  of  Jonathan  Alder  is  one  of  great 
interest  and  value,  being  a  source  from  whence  can  be  derived  much 
important  information  regarding  the  customs,  habits  and  manners  of 
the  Indians,  among  whom  he  spent  fifteen  years  of  his  early  life. 
We  regret  that  it  is  impossible  to  give  more  than  an  outline  sketch 
of  the  incidents  connected  with  his  capture  and  adoption  by  the 
savages. 

He  was  born  in  New  Jersey,  but  removed  with  his  father  to 
Wythe  County,  Virginia,  about  1780.  In  March,  1782,  while  he  and 
his  brother  David  were  in  search  of  a  mare  and  her  foal,  which  had 
strayed  off  into  the  woods,  they  were  surprised  by  the  appearance  of 
a  small  party  of  Indians,  who  darted  upon  them  from  behind  the 
trees,  and,  before  Jonathan  had  time  to  make  an  effort  at  escape,  he 
found  himself  in  the  grasp  of  a  stalwart  warrior,  who  threatened  him 
with  hie  tomahawk,  and  checked  the  effort,  if  the  idea  had  risen  in 
his  mind.  David,  however,  started  to  run,  and  was  pursued  by  one 
of  the  Indians,  who  soon  returned,  leading  him  by  one  hand,  and 
with  the  other  holding  the  handle  of  a  spear,  which  he  had  thrown 
at  him,  and  which  still  remained  in  his  body.  On  seeing  this, 
another  savage  stepped  up  and  took  hold  of  the  boy,  holding  him 
firmly  in  his  grasp,  while  the  first  pulled  the  spear  out  of  the  wound 
by  main  strength.  The  poor  fellow  uttered  a  shriek  of  pain  at  this 
barbarous  surgery,  whereupon  Jonathan  moved  toward  him  and 
inquired  if  he  was  hurt.  He  replied  that  he  was,  and  in  a  few  mo 
ments  sank  dying  to  the  ground.  Jonathan  was  hurried  forward, 
while  one  of  the  Indians  remained  with  the  other  boy ;  but  in  a  few 
moments  made  his  appearance  with  the  scalp  of  David  in  his  hand, 
and,  as  he  approached,  with  an  exhibition  of  the  most  fiendish 
delight,  he  shook  the  reeking  trophy,  from  which  the  blood  was  still 
dripping,  hi  the  face  of  the  lad,  who  was  so  horror-stricken  at  the 
fate  of  his  brother  as  to  be  scarcely  able  to  proceed.  Finding  it 
270 


THE    CAPTIVITY    OF    JONATHAN    ALDER.  15 

necessary,  however,  for  the  salvation  of  his  own  life,  he  urged  him 
self  to  his  utmost,  and  they  soon  overtook  the  balance  of  the  party, 
with  whom  he  found  a  Mrs.  Martin,  a  neighbor,  and  a  child,  about 
five  years  old,  whom  the  Indians  had  taken  captive  after  murdering 
the  husband  of  Mrs.  Martin,  and  all  the  rest  of  her  family.  They 
did  not  long  leave  her  this  solace  to  her  misery,  but  finding  the  boy 
somewhat  troublesome,  they  killed  and  scalped  it,  and,  to  still  the 
agonizing  cries  of  the  broken-hearted  mother,  one  of  the  inhuman 
wretches  drew  the  edge  of  his  knife  across  her  forehead,  at  the  same 
time  crying  "  scalp  1  scalp  !"  to  intimate  the  fate  in  store  for  her  if 
she  did  not  stop  her  screams.  Finding  threats  of  no  avail,  they  then 
cut  switches,  with  which  they  beat  her  until  she  became  quiet.  One 
day,  as  the  boy  Alder  was  sitting  on  the  ground,  after  eating  his 
dinner,  and  being  completely  worn  out  with  the  fatigue  of  their  long 
and  rapid  march,  not  having  risen  when  ordered  to  do  so,  he  observed 
the  shadow  of  some  one  standing  behind  him  with  a  tomahawk  in 
his  hand,  in  the  attitude  of  striking.  He  turned  suddenly  around 
and  beheld  a  warrior  just  in  the  act  of  tomahawking  him.  Finding 
himself  discovered,  perhaps,  or  struck  with  the  good-natured  look 
which  the  boy's  face  wore,  he  withheld  the  blow,  and  commenced 
feeling  of  his  head.  He  afterward  told  the  boy  that  the  color  of  hia 
hair  had  saved  his  life ;  for,  upon  noticing  that  it  was  black  and 
thick,  he  had  thought  that  he  would  make  a  good  Indian,  and  there 
fore  had  concluded  to  take  him  to  his  tribe. 

The  party  by  whom  Alder  had  been  taken  belonged  to  the  Mingo 
tribe,  whose  village  was  on  the  north  side  of  Mad  River.  After 
many  days  of  weary  travel,  and  foot-sore  and  wreary,  they  arrived  in 
its  vicinity.  The  usual  scalp-yell  and  whoop,  announcing  the  pres 
ence  of  prisoners  in  the  party,  having  been  given,  the  whole  village 
turned  out  to  receive  them,  and  Alder  was  obliged  to  undergo  the 
ordeal  of  running  the  gauntlet.  Two  rows  of  Indian  boys  and  girls 
were  stationed  in  front  of  the  council-house,  armed  with  switches, 
and,  exhausted  as  he  was,  he  was  compelled  to  run  between  them, 
and  make  his  way  within  the  door  of  the  council-house  for  safety 
from  their  blows.  Fortunately  he  accomplished  this  with  his  life, 
and  was  soon  after  adopted  into  an  Indian  family,  after  being  purified 
of  his  white  blood.  This  was  done  by  washing  him  in  a  decoction 

271 


16  TALES    AND    TRADITIONS. 

of  herbs,  with  soap ;  and  after  being  dressed  in  the  Indian  fashion, 
with  shirt,  leggins,  breech-clouts  and  moccasins,  he  was  considered 
as  one  of  the  tribe.  It  is  not  to  be  wondered  at  that  it  was  long 
before  he  could  become  in  any  way  reconciled  to  his  new  way  of 
life,  and  that  he  should  mourn  for  that  home  which  he  never  again 
expected  to  see.  For  all  one  year,  the  poor  boy  longed  to  return  to 
his  mother,  brothers  and  sisters.  Every  thing  was  new  and  strange 
to  him ;  he  could  not  speak  a  word  of  their  language ;  their  food 
and  manner  of  life  disagreed  with  him ;  and,  as  if  to  render  his 
misery  more  complete,  he  suffered  dreadfully  with  the  fever  and 
ague.  His  adopted  father  was  chief  of  the  tribe,  and  he,  as  well  as  his 
squaw,  endeavored  to  comfort  him  in  every  way  possible,  and  render 
his  situation  comfortable ;  but  they  could  not  quiet  his  longings  for 
home,  and  the  poor  little  fellow  spent  many  lonely,  bitter  hours,  near 
the  foot  of  a  walnut-tree  in  the  adjacent  forest,  weeping  over  his  hard 
lot.  The  chief  had  three  daughters,  named  Mary,  Sally  and  Han 
nah.  Of  these,  Sally  was  harshest,  making  Jonathan  do  all  the 
work,  and  stigmatizing  him  as  a  "mean,  lousy  prisoner."  Mary,  the 
eldest,  married  a  distinguished  Shawnee  chief,  called  Colonel  Lewis, 
and  Jonathan  went  to  live  with  them  for  a  time.  Of  this  couple  he 
speaks  in  the  warmest  eulogy.  He  says  :  "  The  Indians  would  gen 
erally  collect  at  our  camp  evenings,  to  talk  over  their  hunting  expe 
ditions.  I  would  sit  up  to  listen  to  their  stories,  and  frequently  fell 
asleep  just  where  I  was  sitting.  After  they  left,  Maiy  would  fix  my 
bed,  and  Colonel  Lewis  would  carefully  take  me  up  and  carry  me  to 
it.  On  these  occasions  they  would  often  say,  supposing  me  to  be 
asleep :  '  Poor  fellow,  we  have  set  up  too  long  for  him,  and  he  has 
fallen  asleep  on  the  cold  ground.'  And  then  how  softly  would  they 
lay  me  down  and  cover  rne  up.  Oh,  never  have  I,  nor  can  I,  ex 
press  the  affection  I  had  for  these  two  persons." 

At  the  end  of  a  year,  or  little  more,  Jonathan  acquired  their  lan 
guage,  and  became  in  a  measure  reconciled  and  contented ;  but  their 
food,  which  was  principally  hominy  and  meat,  went  against  him  for 
a  long  time.  As  soon  as  he  grew  stout  enough  to  carry  a  rifle,  they 
gave  him  an  old  musket  to  begin  with,  and  told  him  he  must  learn 
to  hunt.  Delighted  with  his  new  trust,  and  pleased  with  the  idea 
of  becoming  a  hunter  and  a  warrior,  he  devoted  himself  to  learn  the 
272 


THE    CAPTIVITY    OF    JONATHAN    ALDER,  19 

use  of  the  piece.  His  first  essays  were  made  upon  mud-turtles, 
which  he  would  approach  as  they  lay  basking  on  a  rock  in  the  sun 
shine  ;  and  when  he  had  acquired  skill  enough  to  kill  them  by  hit 
ting  the  rock  just  beneath  them,  and  thus  blowing  them  into  the  air 
— sometimes  to  the  height  of  six  or  seven  feet — he  tried  his  skill 
upon  larger  game.  Alder  remained  with  the  Indians  until  after  the 
treaty  with  Wayne,  in  1795.  He  gives  many  particulars  of  great 
interest  concerning  the  movements  of  the  Indians  during  the  long 
and  bloody  wars  which  preceded  that  propitious  event.  Peace  being 
established,  and  almost  all  the  white  prisoners  having  returned  to 
their  former  homes  and  friends,  he  began  to  feel  a  desire  to  see  his 
mother  and  his  relatives  again.  His  long  residence  among  the 
Indians,  however,  had  deprived  him  of  all  knowledge  of  the  English 
language,  and  he  had  lost  all  recollection  even  of  the  State  in  which 
he  had  lived.  He  had  not,  therefore,  the  least  clew  to  aid  him  in 
the  search. 

"Watching  his  opportunity,  however,  and  having  long  entertained 
the  idea  of  escaping,  he  at  last  succeeded  in  eluding  the  suspicions 
of  his  red  friends,  and  in  beginning  his  enterprise.  Choosing  a  sea 
son  of  the  year  when  game  and  berries  were  plenty,  and  stocking  his 
bag  with  dried  venison,  he  set  out,  avowedly,  on  a  hunting  expedi 
tion  ;  and  the  true  object  of  his  journey  was  not  suspected  for  some 
days  after  the  time  of  his  expected  return.  He  had  nothing  to  guide 
him  toward  the  white  settlements,  except  a  knowledge  that  they  lay 
in  a  northerly  direction.  His  skill  in  woodcraft  being  equal  to  that 
of  the  Indians',  he  was  enabled  to  bear  the  fatigues  and  discourage 
ments  of  his  wanderings.  A  band  of  red  men,  whom  he  encoun 
tered,  treated  him  as  one  of  themselves,  they  belonging  to  a  friendly 
tribe ;  and,  after  three  weeks  of  solitary  marches,  sleeping  at  night  as 
the  circumstances  permitted,  he  emerged  into  a  country  once  familiar 
to  him,  but  now  considerably  changed  during  the  fifteen  years  of  his 
absence. 

But  his  friends,  nor  their  surroundings,  were  not  so  much  changed 
as  himself.  He  was  not  only  an  Indian  in  his  appearance,  .but  'in 
many  of  his  feelings.  Glad  as  he  was  to  get  back,  he  soon  became 
very  home-sick  for  the  wild  life  he  had  abandoned.  The  clothes,  the 
warm  beds,  the  chairs,  the  food  and  table,  the  restraints  of  civilisation, 


TALES    AND    TRADITIONS. 

were,  for  a  time,  almost  insupportable.  It  was  but  very  gradually 
that  the  white  blood  of  his  ancestors  begun  to  stir  anew  in  his  veins, 
and  the  powerful  ties  and  instincts  of  early  associations  to  break  up 
the  strong  bonds  of  more  recent  habits.  lie  was  almost  as  many 
years  in  becoming  a  white  man  as  he  had  been  in  growing  an  In 
dian. 

A  writer  upon  the  character  of  the  Indians,  in  his  defense  of  them, 
says  that  if  an  Anglo-American  were  placed  in  the  same  circumstances 
with  a  native,  he  would  make  a  precisely  similar  person  in  every 
trait  and  habit.  "  This  averment  is  sustained  by  a  reference  to  the 
white  people  who  had  been  taken  prisoners  in  childhood  and  brought 
up  among  the  Indians.  In  every  such  case,  the  child  of  civilization 
has  become  the  ferocious  adult  of  the  forest,  manifesting  all  the 
peculiarities,  tastes  and  preferences  of  the  native  Indian.  His  man 
ners,  habits,  propensities  and  pursuits  have  been  the  same ;  his  fond 
ness  for  the  chase  and  his  aversion  to  labor  the  same ;  so  that  the 
most  astute  philosophical  observer  has  been  unable  to  detect  any 
difference,  except  hi  the  color  of  the  skin ;  and,  in  some  instances, 
even  this  distinction  has  been  removed  by  long  exposure  to  the 
weather,  and  the  free  use  of  oils  and  paints.  There  have  been  cases 
in  which  the  children  of  white  parents,  who  have  been  raised  among 
the  Indians  from  early  infancy,  have  been  taken  home,  in  middle 
life,  to  their  relatives,  but  have  refused  to  remain,  and  have  returned 
to  the  tribes  in  which  they  were  brought  up.  One  case  of  this  kind 
occurred  within  the  knowledge  of  the  writer.  A  female,  captured  in 
infancy,  and  reared  among  the  Indians,  was  brought  in  by  them  at 
the  treaty  of  Greenville,  and  sent  to  her  parents  in  Kentucky.  She 
socn  became  so  discontented  and  restless  that,  in  spite  of  all  their 
efforts,  she  left  them,  returned  to  her  former  associates,  and  was  again 
happy."  All  of  which  is  doubtless  true,  but  does  not  disprove  the 
many  barbarous  instincts  of  the  red-men. 

In  the  fall  of  1788,  Matthias  Van  Bebber,  aged  eighteen,  and  Jacob, 
aged  twelve  years,  were  out  a  short  distance  from  Point  Pleasant, 
with  a  horse,  when  they  were  waylaid  by  four  Indians.  Jacob  was 
loading  the  horse,  and  Matthias  was  a  short  distance  ahead,  with  a 
rifle  across  his  shoulder,  when  the  Indians  fired  two  guns  at  Matthias. 
One  of  the  balls  struck  him  over  the  eyes,  momentarily  blinding  him ; 


BOQUET'S  DEFENSE  OF  FORT  PITT.  21 

he  sprang  one  side,  and  fell  into  a  gully.  Jacob,  on  hearing  the 
report  of  the  guns,  fled,  pursued  by  three  of  the  savages.  Matthias, 
in  the  mean  time,  sprang  up  and  took  to  a  tree.  The  remaining 
Indian  did  the  same.  The  lad  brought  up  his  gun  to  an  aim,  the 
Indian  dodged,  when  the  former  improved  the  opportunity  to  fly, 
and  escaped  to  the  fort.  The  other  three,  after  a  tight  chase  of  half 
a  mile,  caught  Jacob,  who,  being  very  active,  would  have  escaped, 
had  not  his  moccasins  been  too  large.  They  then  retreated  across 
the  Ohio  with  their  prisoner.  He  was  a  sprightly  little  fellow,  small 
of  his  age,  and  his  captors,  pleased  with  him,  treated  him  kindly. 
On  the  first  night  of  their  encampment,  they  took  him  on  their  knees 
and  sang  to  him.  He  turned 'away  his  head  to  conceal  his  tears. 

On  arriving  at  their  town,  while  running  the  gauntlet  between  the 
children  of  the  place,  an  Indian  boy,  much  larger  than  himself,  threw 
a  bone,  which  struck  him  on  the  head.  Enraged  by  the  pain,  Jacob 
drew  back,  and  running  with  all  his  force,  butted  him  over,  to  the 
great  amusement  of  the  gazing  warriors.  He  was  adopted  into  an 
Indian  family,  where  he  was  used  with  kindness.  On  one  occasion 
his  adopted  father  whipped  him,  but  not  severely,  which  afiecfced  his 
new  mother  and  sister  to  tears.  After  remaining  with  the  tribe 
about  a  year,  he  escaped,  traveling  five  days  through  the  wilderness 
to  his  home.  When  he  arrived  at  maturity  he  was  remarkable  for 
his  fleetness.  None  of  the  Indians  who  visited  the  Point  could 
distance  him  in  running. 

One  of  the  most  interesting  histories  on  record  of  the  return  of 
white  prisoners  from  among  the  red-men  is  connected  with  Boquet's 
defense  of  Fort  Pitt,  and  his  expedition  from  that  fort  into  the 
wilderness,  to  overawe  his  adversaries  by  the  display  of  his  strength, 
and  to  recover  the  vast  number  of  men,  women  and  children,  held 
by  the  savages,  amounting,  in  all,  to  over  three  hundred.  Fort  Pitt 
stood  on  the  present  site  of  Pittsburg,  and,  at  the  time  of  which  we 
write,  1772,  was  the  only  spot,  excepting  Fort  Detroit,  from  the  Falls 
of  Niagara  to  the  Falls  of  St.  Mary,  over  which  the  English  flag 
waved.  Our  splendid  territories  were  being  ravaged  by  the  Indians ; 
families,  who  had  effected  a  home  and  comforts,  being  driven  back  by 
the  tomahawk,  with  their  scattered  remnants,  to  the  East,  from  which 
they  had  emigrated,  or  into  Fort  Pitt,  which  alone  opposed  itself  to 

277 


TALES    AND    TRADITIONS. 

the  murderous  waves  which  dashed  against,  and  threatened  to  under 
mine  it.  It  withstood,  like  Fort  Detroit,  a  long  siege  by  the  savages, 
was  reinforced,  the  reinforcements,  before  reaching  the  fort,  having 
given  battle  to,  and  defeated  the  Indians. 

The  Indians,  disheartened  by  their  overwhelming  defeat,  and  des-* 
pairing  of  success  against  the  fort,  now  that  it  was  so  heavily  rein 
forced,  retired  sullenly  to  their  homes  beyond  the  Ohio,  leaving  the 
country  between  it  and  the  settlement  free  from  their  ravages.  Com 
munication  being  rendered  safe,  the  fugitives  were  able  to  return  to 
their  friends,  or  take  possession  of  their  abandoned  cabins.  By  com 
paring  notes,  they  were  soon  able  to  make  out  an  accurate  list  of 
those  who  were  missing — either  killed  or  prisoners  among  various 
tribes — when  it  was  found  to  contain  the  names  of  more  than  two 
hundred  men,  women  and  children.  Fathers  mourned  their  daugh 
ters,  slain  or  subject  to  a  captivity  worse  than  death ;  husbands,  their 
wives,  left  mangled  in  the  forest,  or  forced  to  follow  their  savage  cap 
tors — some  with  babes  at  their  breasts,  and  some,  whose  offspring 
would  first  see  the  light  in  the  red-man's  wigwam — and  loud  were 
the  cries  for  vengeance  which  went  up  on  every  hand. 

Boquet  wished  to  follow  up  his  success,  and  march  at  once  into  the 
enemy's  country,  and  wring  from  the  hostile  tribes,  by  force  of  arms, 
a  treaty  of  peace,  which  should  forever  put  an  end  to  those  scenes 
of  rapine  and  murder.  But  his  force  was  too  small,  and  the  season 
too  far  advanced.  He  matured  his  plans  during  the  winter,  and  in 
the  spring  began  his  preparations.  The  Indians,  in  the  meantime, 
had  procured  powder  from  the  French,  and,  as  soon  as  the  snow 
melted,  commenced  their  ravages  along  the  frontier.  The  aroused 
and  desperate  people  of  Pennsylvania  furnished  a  thousand  men,  and 
Virginia  a  corps  of  volunteers,  which,  added  to  Boquet's  five  hun 
dred  regulars,  made  a  force  of  nearly  two  thousand  men,  with  which 
he  was  instructed  to  advance  into  the  enemy's  territory,  and,  by  one 
grand  movement,  crush  the  offending  tribes.  His  route  was  without  any 
water  communication,  and  lay  through  the  heart  of  an  unbroken  wil 
derness.  The  expedition  was  to  be  carried  out  without  boats,  wagons, 
or  artillery,  and  without  a  post  to  fall  back  upon  in  case  of  disaster. 
It  was,  indeed,  an  isolated  and  a  novel  affair.  It  was  autumn  before 
all  obstacles  were  overcome,  and  the  army  under  way.  It  struck  di- 
2TS 


BOQUET'S  EXPEDITION.  23 

rectly  into  the  trackless  forest,  with  no  definite  point  in  view,  and  no 
fixed  limit  to  its  advance.  It  was  intended  to  overawe  by  its  mag 
nitude — to  move,  as  an  awful  exhibition  of  power,  into  the  heart  of 
the  red-man's  dominions.  Expecting  to  be  shut  up  in  the  forest  at 
least  a  month,  receiving  in  that  time  no  supplies  from  without,  it  had 
to  carry  along  an  immense  quantity  of  provisions.  Meat,  of  course, 
could  not  be  preserved,  and  so  the  frontier  settlements  were  exhausted 
of  sheep  and  oxen  for  its  support.  These  necessarily  caused  the 
march  to  be  slow  and  methodical.  The  corps  of  Virginia  volunteers 
went  in  front,  preceded  by  three  scouting  parties — one  of  which  kept 
the  path — while  the  two  others  moved  in  a  line  abreast,  on  either 
side,  to  explore  the  woods. 

Under  cover  of  these,  the  ax  companies,  guarded  by  two  companies 
of  light  infantry,  cut  two  parallel  paths,  one  each  side  of  the  main 
path,  for  the  troops,  pack-horses,  and  cattle,  which  followed.  First 
marched  the  Highlanders,  in  column,  two  deep,  in  the  centre  path, 
and  in  the  side  paths,  in  single  file,  abreast — the  men  six  feet  apart 
— and  behind  them  the  corps  of  reserve,  and  the  second  battalion  of 
Pennsylvania  militia.  Then  came  the  officers,  and  pack-horses,  fol 
lowed  by  the  droves  of  cattle,  filling  the  forest  with  their  loud  com 
plainings.  A  company  of  light-horse  walked  slowly  after  these, 
while  the  rear-guard  closed  the  long  array.  No  talking  was  allowed, 
and  no  music  cheered  the  way.  In  this  order  the  unwieldy  caravan 
struggled  along,  neither  extremity  of  which  could  be  seen  from  the 
centre,  it  being  lost  amid  the  thickly-clustering  trunks  and  foliage  in 
the  distance. 

Some  days  they  would  make  but  two  or  three  miles,  and  again, 
when  the  way  was  less  obstructed,  would"  make  ten,  fifteen  or  eigh 
teen  miles.  On  the  fourth  day  of  their  march,  near  some  deserted 
Indian  huts,  they  came  upon  the  skull  of  a  child,  stuck  upon  a 
pole. 

There  was  a  large  number  of  men  in  the  army  who  had  wives, 
children  and  friends  prisoners  among  the  Indians,  and  who  had  ac 
companied  the  expedition  for  the  purpose  of  recovering  them.  To 
these  the  skull  of  this  little  child  brought  sad  reflections.  Some  one 
among  them  was,  perhaps,  its  father,  while  the  thought  that  ifc  might 
stand  as  an  index,  to  tell  the  fate  of  all  who  were  captured,  made 

279 


24  TALES    AND    TRADITIONS. 

each  one  shudder.  As  they  looked  at  it,  bleached  by  the  sun  and 
rain,  the  anxious  heart  asked  questions  it  dared  not  answer. 

Keeping  on  their  course,  they  pursued  their  difficult  march,  day 
after  day,  much  of  the  time  through  a  tangled  wilderness,  but  occa 
sionally,  from  some  high  point,  catching  glimpses  of  marvellous 
splendor  of  sky  and  scenery,  the  purpled  sunlight  of  October  wrap 
ping  all  objects  in  a  kind  of  enchantment.  At  times  the  path  was 
so  overgrown  with  bushes,  that  every  step  had  to  be  cleared  with 
the  ax ;  again,  it  would  be  over  marshes,  so  wet  that  bridges  had  to 
be  constructed,  to  keep  the  cattle  from  sinking ;  and  still  again,  the 
men  would  be  cheered  by  an  easy  and  rapid  day's  journey,  along  the 
banks  of  some  pleasant  stream.  Ohio  is  even  yet  renowned  for  its 
glorious  forests,  and  these,  now  dressed  in  all  the  gorgeous  coloring 
of  Indian  summer,  gave  frequent  pictures  of  beauty  which  impressed 
the  roughest  of  the  sturdy  soldiers. 

At  length  they  descended  to  a  small  river,  which  they  followed 
until  it  joined  the  main  force  of  the  Muskingum,  where  a  scene  of  a 
very  different  character  awaited  them.  A  little  above  and  below  the 
forks,  the  shores  had  been  cultivated,  and  lined  with  Indian  houses. 
The  place  was  called  Tuscarora,  and,  for  beauty  of  situation,  could 
not  well  be  surpassed.  The  high,  luxuriant  banks,  the  placid  rivers, 
meeting  and  flowing  on  together,  the  green  fields,  sprinkled  with 
huts,  and  bordered  with  rich,  autumnal  foliage,  all  basking  in  the 
mellow  October  light,  and  so  out  of  the  wray  there  in  the  wilderness, 
combined  to  form  a  sweet  picture,  which  was  doubly  lovely  to  them 
after  being  so  long  shut  up  in  the  forest.  They  reached  this  beautiful 
spot  Saturday  afternoon,  and,  the  next  day  being  Sunday,  they  re 
mained  in  camp,  men  and  cattle  being  allowed  a  day  of  rest.  The 
latter,  revived  under  the  swell  of  green  grass,  and,  roaming  over  the 
fields,  gave  a  still  more  civilized  aspect  to  the  quiet  scene.  The  next 
day,  the  army  moved  two  miles  further  down  the  Muskingum,  and 
encamped  on  a  high  bank,  where  the  stream  was  three  hundred  feet 
wide. 

The  following  day  six  chiefs  came  into  camp,  saying  that  all  the 
rest  were  eight  miles  off,  waiting  to  make  peace.  Boquet  told  them 
he  w"ould  be  ready  to  receive  them  next  day.  In  the  meantime  he 
ordered  a  large  bower  to  be  built,  a  short  distance  from  camp,  while 


THE   PEACE    TREATY.  25 

sentinels  were  posted  in  every  direction,  to  prevent  surprise,  in  case 
treachery  was  meditated. 

The  next  day,  the  17th,  he  paraded  the  Highlanders  and  Virginia 
volunteers,  and,  escorted  by  the  light-horse,  led  them  to  the  bower, 
where  he  disposed  them  in  the  most  imposing  manner,  so  as  to  im 
press  the  chiefs,  in  the  approaching  interview.  The  latter,  as  they 
emerged  from  the  forest,  were  conducted,  with  great  ceremony  to  the 
bower,  which  they  entered  with  their  accustomed  gravity,  where, 
without  saying  a  word,  they  quietly  seated  themselves,  and  com 
menced  smoking.  When  they  had  finished  they  laid  aside  their  pipes, 
and  drew  from  their  pouches  strings  of  wampum.  The  council, 
being  thus  opened,  they  made  a  long  address,  in  which  they  were 
profuse  in  their  professions  of  peace,  laying  the  whole  blame  of  the 
war  on  the  young  men,  whom,  they  said,  they  could  not  control. 

Boquet,  not  wishing  to  appear  eager  to  come  to  a  settlement, 
replied  that  he  would  give  his  answer  the  next  clay,  and  the  council 
broke  up.  A  passing  storm,  however,  prevented  a  meeting  of  the 
council  until  the  day  following  that  first  set.  Boquet' s  answer  was 
long  and  conciliatory ;  but  the  gist  of  it  was  that  he  would  make 
peace  on  one  condition,  and  no  other — that  the  Indians  should  give 
up  all  the  prisoners  in  their  possession  within  ten  days. 

Remaining  quietly  in  camp  until  Monday,  he  again  ordered  the 
tents  to  be  struck,  and  recommenced  his  march,  to  show  his  deter 
mination  to  enforce  his  commands.  In  three  days  he  reached  the 
forks  of  the  Muskingum  ;  and,  judging  this  to  be  as  central  a  position 
as  he  could  find,  he  resolved  to  remain  there  until  his  mission  was 
accomplished.  He  ordered  four  redoubts  to  be  built,  erected  several 
store-houses,  a  mess-house,  a  large  number  of  ovens,  and  various 
other  buildings  for  the  reception  of  captives,  which,  with  the  white 
tents  scattered  up  and  down  the  forks  of  the  river,  made  a  large  set 
tlement  in  the  wilderness,  filling  the  Indians  with  alarm.  A  town 
with  nearly  two  thousand  inhabitants,  well  supplied  with  horses,  cat 
tle  and  sheep,  and  with  ample  means  of  defense,  was  well  calculated 
to  awaken*  the  gloomiest  anticipations  in  the  breasts  of  the  ancient 
inheritors.  The  steady  sound  of  the  ax,  day  after  day,  the  lowing 
of  cattle,  and  all  the  bustle  of  civilization,  echoing  along  the  banks 

of  the  Muskingum,  within  the  very  heart  of  their  territory,  was  more 

281 


2o  TALES    AND    TRADITIONS. 

alarming  than  the  resistless  march  of  a  victorious  army  ;  and,  anxious 
to  get  rid  of  such  umvelcoine  company,  they  made  every  effort  to 
collect  the  prisoners  scattered  amid  the  various  tribes. 

Boquet  remained  here  two  weeks,  occupied  with  sending  and  re 
ceiving  messengers  who  were  charged  with  business  relating  to  the 
restoration  of  the  captives.  At  the  end  of  this  time,  two  hundred 
and  six,  the  majority  of  them  women  and  children,  had  been  received 
into  camp.  An  hundred  more  yet  remained  in  the  hands  of  the  In 
dians.  These  they  solemnly  promised  to  restore  in  the  spring,  and, 
as  the  leafless  forest,  the  biting  blast,  and  occasional  flurries  of  snow, 
reminded  Boquet  of  the  coming  on  of  winter,  he  determined  to  re 
trace  his  steps  to  Fort  Pitt. 

These  two  weeks,  during  which  the  prisoners  were  being  brought 
in,  were  filled  with  scenes  of  the  most  intense,  and  often  painful  ex 
citement.  Some  of  the  captives  had  been  for  many  years  with  the 
Indians,  recipients  of  their  kindness  and  love  ;  others  had  passed  from 
childhood  to  maturity  among  them,  till  they  had  forgotten  their  na 
tive  language,  and  the  past  was  to  them,  if  remembered  at  all,  but  a 
half-forgotten  dream.  All  of  them — men,  women  and  children — 
were  dressed  in  Indian  costume,  and  their  hair  arranged  in  Indian 
fashion.  Their  features,  also,  were  bronzed  by  long  exposure  to  the 
weather,  so  that  they  appeared  to  have  passed  more  than  half  way 
to  a  purely  savage  state.  As  troop  after  troop  came  in,  the  eager 
looks  and  inquiries  of  those  who  had  accompanied  the  army  to  find 
their  long-lost  families  and  kindred,  made  each  arrival  a  most  thrill 
ing  scene.  In  some  instances,  where  the  separation  had  only  bee.  i 
for  a  short  time,  the  recognition  was  simultaneous  and  mutual,  and 
the  short,  quick  cry,  and  sudden  rush  into  each  other's  arms,  brought 
tears  to  the  eyes  of  the  hardy  soldiers.  In  others,  doubt,  agony, 
fear  and  hope,  would  in  turn  take  possession  of  the  heart,  chashig 
each  other  like  shadows  over  the  face,  as  question  after  question  was 
put,  to  recall  some  event  or  scene  familiar  to  both,  till  at  last  a  com 
mon  chord  would  be  touched,  when  the  dormant  memory  would 
awake  as  by  an  electric  shock,  a  flood  of  fond  recollections  sweep 
away  all  uncertainty,  and  the  lost  one  be  hurried  away  amid  sobs  and 
cries  of  joy.  Sometimes  the  disappointed  father  or  brother  would 
turn  sorrowfully  away,  and,  with  that  hope  deferred  which  niaketh 
282 


SCENES    OF    RECOGNITION.  27 

the  heart  sick,  sadly  await  the  arrival  of  another  group.  But  the' 
most  painful  sight  was  when  a  mother  recognized  her  own  child, 
which,  however,  in  turn,  persisted  in  looking  on  her  as  a  stranger, 
coldly  turning  from  her  embrace,  and  clinging  to  its  savage  protector ; 
or  when  a  mutual  recognition  failed  to  awaken  affection  on  one 
side,  so  entirely  had  the  heart  become  weaned  from  its  early  attach 
ments.  In  these  cases,  the  joy  of  the  captors  knew  no  bounds ;  the 
most  endearing  epithets  and  caresses  would  be  lavished  on  the  whi- 
lome  prisoner.  But  when  they  saw  them  taken  away,  torrents  of 
tears  attested  their  sincere  affection  and  grief.  The  attitude  of  in 
tense  interest,  and  the  exhibition  of  uncontrollable  sorrow  of  these 
wild  children  of  the  forest,  on  one  side,  and,  on  the  other,  the  ecstatic 
joy  of  the  white  mother  as  she  folded  her  long-lost  child  in  her 
arms,  and  the  deep  emotion  of  the  husband  as  he  strained  his  recov 
ered  wife  to  his  bosom,  combined  to  form  one  of  the  most  moving, 
novel  spectacles  ever  witnessed  in  the  American  wilderness. 

One  of  the  captive  women  had  an  infant,  three  months  old,  at  her 
breast,  born  in  the  Indian's  wigwam.  A  Virginia  volunteer  instantly 
recognized  her  as  his  wife,  stolen  from  his  log-cabin  six  months  pre 
vious,  and  rushing  forward  he  snatched  her  to  his  bosom,  and  flew 
with  her  to  his  tent,  where,  tearing  off  the  savage  costumes  of  both, 
he  clothed  them  in  their  proper  garments.  After  the  first  burst  of 
joy  was  over,  he  inquired  after  his  little  boy,  two  years  old,  who 
was  carried  off  at  the  same  time  she  was  made  prisoner ;  but  his 
wife  could  give  no  tidings  of  him.  A  few  days  after,  another  party 
of  prisoners  arrived,  in  which  was  a  child  whose  appearance  an 
swered  to  the  description  of  this  little  fugitive.  The  woman  was 
sent  for  and  the  child  placed  before  her.  She  looked  at  it  a  moment 
and  shook  her  head.  But  the  next  instant  the  powerful  maternal 
instinct  triumphed,  and,  recognizing  in  the  little  savage  before  her 
her  lost  darling,  she  dropped  her  babe,  and  snatching  him  to  her 
bosom,  burst  into  a  torrent  of  tears.  The  husband  caught  the  babe 
from  the  ground,  and  the  couple  hurried  away  to  his  tent.  The 
poor  Indian  mother  watched  their  retreating  forms,  and  then  bury 
ing  her  head  in  her  blanket,  sobbed  aloud.  A  scene  equally  affect 
ing  occurred  between  an  aged  mother  and  her  daughter,  who  had 
been  carried  off  nine  years  before,  and  adopted  in  a  distant  tribe. 

283 


28  TALES    AND    TRADITIONS. 

Though  the  latter  had  passed  from  childhood  to  womanhood  iu  the 
forest,  differing  from  other  young  squaws  only  in  the  tint  of  her 
skin,  which  her  wild  life  could  not  wholly  bronze,  the  eyes  of  the 
parent  detected  the  features  of  her  child  in  the  handsome  young 
savage,  and  calling  her  by  name,  she  rushed  forward  to  embrace 
her.  The  latter,  having  forgotten  her  name  and  language,  and  all 
her  childhood's  life,  looked  on  wondering,  and  turned,  frightened,  to 
her  Indian  parent.  The  true  mother  tried  in  every  way  to  recall 
the  memory  of  her  child,  and  awaken  recognition,  but  in  vain.  At 
length,  despairing  of  success,  she  gave  way  to  the  most  passionate 
grief.  Boquet  had  been  a  silent  witness  of  the  painful  interview. 
Moved  at  the  grief  of  the  mother,  he  approached  her,  and  asked  if 
she  could  not  recall  some  song  with  which  she  used  to  sing  her 
child  to  sleep.  Brightening  at  the  suggestion,  she  looked  up  through 
her  tears,  and  struck  a  familiar  strain,  with  which  she  used  to  quiet 
her  babe.  The  moment  the  cars  of  the  maiden  caught  the  sound, 
her  countenance  changed,  and  as  the  strain  proceeded,  a  strange 
light  stole  over  her  features.  All  stood  hushed  as  death,  as  that 
simple  melody  floated  out  through  the  forest,  watching  with  intense 
interest  the  countenances  of  the  two  actors  in  this  touching  scene. 
The  eager,  anxious  look  of  the  mother,  as  she  sang,  and  the  rapidly 
changing  expression  of  the  captive's  face  as  she  listened,  awoke  the 
profoundest  sympathy  of  Boquet's  generous  heart,  so  that  he  could 
hardly  restrain  his  feelings.  Slowly,  almost  painfully,  the  dormant 
memory  awoke  from  its  long  sleep  ;  at  length  the  dark  cloud  was 
rent  asunder,  and  the  scenes  of  childhood  came  back  in  all  the  fresh 
ness  of  their  early  springtime,  and  the  half-wild  young  creature  sank 
in  joy  on  her  mother's  bosom. 

Some  of  the  children  had  been  so  long  with  their  captors  that 
they  regarded  them  as  their  true  parents,  crying  bitterly  at  being 
separated  from  them.  Stranger  still,  the  young  women  had  become 
so  attached  to  their  savage  but  kind  husbands,  that,  when  told  they 
were  to  be  given  up  to  their  white  friends,  they  refused  to  go ;  and 
many  of  them  had  to  be  bound  and  brought  as  prisoners  to  camp. 
The  promise  that  they  should  take  their  half-breed  children  with 
them,  could  not  change  their  wishes.  On  the  other  hand,  the  In 
dians  clung  to  them  with  a  tenacity  and  fondness  which  made  the 
'  284 


RETURN    OP    TILE    ARMY. 

spectators  forget  that  they  were  gazing  upon  savages.  It  was  piti 
ful  to  see  their  habitual  stoicism  give  way  so  completely  at  the  pros 
pect  of  separation.  They  made  no  effort  to  conceal  their  grief;  the 
chieftain's  eye,  which  gleamed  like  his  tomahawk  in  battle,  now  wept 
like  a  child's.  His  strong  nature  seemed  wholly  subdued;  his 
haughty  bearing  changed  to  one  of  humility,  as  he  besought  the 
white  men  to  treat  his  pale-face  squaw  tenderly.  His  wild  life  sud 
denly  lost  all  its  charms,  and  he  hung  round  the  camp  to  get  a  sight 
of  her  wrhom,  though  she  was  lost  to  him,  he  still  loved.  He 
watched  near  the  log-building  in  which  she  was  left,  leaving  it  only 
to  bring  from  the  forests  pheasants,  wild  pigeons,  or  some  delicacy 
to  lay  at  her  feet.  Some  of  the  young  captive  wives  refused  to  be 
comforted,  and,  using  that  sagacity  they  had  acquired  during  their 
sojourn  with  the  red-men,  managed  to  escape  from  their  white  friends, 
and,  joining  their  swarthy  lovers,  fled  with  them  to  the  forest. 

The  American  wilderness  never  before  presented  such  a  spectacle 
as  was  exhibited  on  the  banks  of  the  Muskingum.  It  was  no  longer 
a  hostile  camp,  but  a  stage  on  which  human  nature  was  displaying 
its  most  noble,  attractive  traits ;  or,  rather,  a  sublime  poem,  enacted 
in  that  lovely  natural  temple,  whose  burden  was  human  affection, 
and  whose  great  argument,  the  common  brotherhood  of  mankind. 

Boquet  and  his  officers  were  deeply  impressed.  They  could  hardly 
believe  their  own  eyes  when  they  saw  young  warriors  whose  deed?? 
of  daring  ferocity  had  made  their  names  a  terror  on  the  frontier, 
weeping  like  children  over  their  bereavement. 

A  treaty  of  peace  having  been  concluded  between  the  various 
tribes,  Boquet,  taking  hostages  to  secure  their  good  behavior,  and  the 
return  of  the  remaining  prisoners,  broke  up  his  camp  on  the  18th  of 
November,  and  began  to  retrace  his  steps  towards  Fort  Pitt.  The 
leafless  forest  rocked  and  roared  above  the  little  army,  as  it  oncti 
more  entered  its  gloomy  recesses ;  and  that  lovely  spot  on  the  banks 
of  the  Muskingum,  which  had  witnessed  such  strange  scenes,  lapsed 
again  into  its  primeval  quiet. 

285 


TALES    AND    TRADITIONS. 


MOODY,  THE  REFUGEE. 

IN  about  the  central  part  of  Sussex  county,  New  Jersey,  two  miles 
south  of  the  village  of  Newton,  the  county  seat,  are  two  ponds  or 
bodies  of  water,  which  go  by  the  name  of  the  "  Big  "  and  "  Little 
Muckshaw."  The  lower,  or  Little  Muckshaw,  loses  itself,  at  its 
western  extremity,  in  a  marsh  or  swamp,  which  is  almost  impassable, 
except  after  a  long  drought.  This  vicinity  possesses  some  consider 
able  interest,  from  having  been  the  haunt  of  one  of  those  fiends  in 
human  shape,  who  preyed  upon  the  substance  of  the  patriotic  citi 
zens  of  the  neighborhood  during  that  gloomy  period  in  our  Revolu 
tionary  contest,  when  even  the  Father  of  his  country  was  wrapped 
in  despondency  at  the  prospect  for  the  future. 

Bonnel  Moody  was  a  ruffian  of  the  deepest  dye,  and  possessed  of 
all  those  qualities  which  constitute  an  accomplished  freebooter  and 
highwayman.  He  was  cunning  as  a  fox ;  energetic  and  determined 
in  the  pursuit  of  an  object ;  void  of  all  pity  or  remorse ;  avaricious 
as  a  miser ;  and  with  a  brute  courage  which  made  him  formidable 
in  combat,  he  was  a  dangerous  enemy  in  the  midst  of  the  inhabit 
ants  of  Sussex  county,  as  they  learned  to  their  cost  during  the  war. 
His  place  of  retreat,  or  rather,  his  lair — for  it  was  more  like  the 
haunt  of  some  wild  beast  than  the  abode  of  human  beings — was  on 
the  west  side  of  the  swamp  above  mentioned,  where  nature  seemed 
to  have  provided  him  with  a  retreat  more  impregnable  than  art 
could  have  furnished  him.  A  point  of  land  projects  into  the  west 
ern  side  of  the  marsh,  affording  only  a  very  narrow  and  difficult 
foothold  for  one  man  to  pass  between  its  base  and  an  inlet  of  the 
pond  which  washes  the  foot  of  the  rocks.  The  ledge  then  recedes 
in  the  shape  of  a  crescent,  forming  a  little  cove,  with  water  in  front 
and  rocks  behind  and  above.  About  forty-five  yards  from  this  point 
is  a  huge  rock,  screened  by  overhanging  trees  and  shrubs,  in  which 
is  a  cavern,  where  Moody  and  his  gang  of  marauders  found  sholkr 
when  their  deeds  of  rapine  and  murder  had  roused  t:;.'  in!n  ;: 
286 


MOODY,   THE    REFUGEE.  31 

of  the  vicinity  to  rid  themselves  of  the  dangerous  foe.  This  cavern 
is  eighteen  feet  high  in  front,  gradually  receding  until  it  meets  the 
foundation  at  a  distance  of  fifteen  feet,  and  about  fifty  feet  in  length 
from  north  to  south.  Beyond  this  cavern  the  ledge  again  approaches 
the  marsh,  into  which  it  projects,  forming  an  elbow  almost  impossible 
to  pass  around,  and  on  the  opposite  side  it  again  recedes,  presenting 
a  bold  and  rugged  aspect,  heightened  by  the  gloom  of  perpetual 
shade,  numerous  cavern-like  fissures,  and  masses  of  rock  which  have 
fallen,  from  time  to  time,  from  the  overhanging  ledge.  One  of  these 
is  a  large,  flat  slab,  about  ten  feet  long,  six  high,  and  between  three 
and  four  feet  thick,  which  has  fallen  in  such  a  position  as  to  leave  a 
passage  behind  it  of  about  a  yard  in  width.  The  rocks  above  pro 
ject  over  this  slab,  so  as  to  shield  it  effectually  from  that  quarter, 
and  a  half-dozen  men  might  defend  themselves  behind  this  natural 
buckler  against  the  attack  of  an  army.  Such  was  the  haunt  of 
Moody,  and  his  congenial  band  of  Tory  cut-throats  and  murderers ; 
and  from  here,  like  a  flock  of  ravenous  wolves  would  they  issue, 
when  opportunity  offered,  and  lay  waste  and  destroy  all  within  their 
reach  until  danger  threatened,  when  they  would  retreat  to  this  natu 
ral  fastness  with  their  ill-gotten  plunder,  here  to  divide  and  secrete 
it.  From  the  brow  of  the  ledge,  which  rises  nearly  a  hundred  feet 
from  the  water,  they  had  a  fair  view  of  every  avenue  to  their  hiding- 
place,  and  no  one  ever  approached  it  alive  except  Moody  and  his 
associates,  or  perhaps  some  friend  of  theirs,  with  provision  or  infor 
mation.  There  were  those  so  lost  to  principle  as  to  furnish  this 
crew  of  land-pirates  with  the  necessaries  of  life,  and  with  accurate 
intelligence  of  every  movement,  on  the  part  of  the  Americans,  which 
occurred  in  the  vicinity.  Several  attempts  to  capture  the  wretch 
were  frustrated  by  these  loyal  friends.  At  one  time,  when  a  party, 
having  tracked  him  for  some  distance,  wTere  about  to  spring  upon 
him,  he  was  alarmed  by  a  negro  in  time  to  make  his  escape ;  and  on 
another  occasion  a  young  woman  mounted  a  horse  and  rode  some 
twelve  or  fourteen  miles,  of  a  dark  night,  to  warn  him  of  a  projected 
attack  by  a  party  of  Whigs,  who  had  determined  to  capture  him  afc 
all  hazards.  One  cold  winter  night  he  broke  into  the  house  of  a  Mr. 
Ogden,  and  after  robbing  it  of  every  thing  of  any  value,  he  took  the 
old  man  out  in  the  yard,  and  made  him  take  an  oath  not  to  make 

3L7 


82  TALKS    AND    TRADITIONS. 

known  his  visit  until  a  sufficient  time  had  elapsed  for  himself  and 
his  party  to  make  their  escape.  Two  or  three  men  who  were  work 
ing  for  Mr.  Ogden,  and  who  slept  in  a  loft  up  stairs,  not  feeling 
bound  by  the  old  man's  oath,  alarmed  the  neighborhood  and  com 
menced  a  pursuit.  Their  track  was  easily  followed  in  the  snow,  and 
in  the  morning  they  came  upon  a  camp  where  the  marauders  had 
slept  over  night,  and  where  their  fires  were  still  burning.  The  chase 
was  kept  up  until  they  reached  Goshen,  in  the  State  of  New  York, 
where  they  recovered  part  of  the  plunder,  but  the  rascals  escaped. 
These  expeditions  in  pursuit  of  the  Tory  wretch  were  called 
"  Moody-hunting,"  and  were  followed  up  frequently  with  great 
energy. 

One  night,  about  twelve  o'clock,  he  made  his  appearance  at 
the  bedside  of  the  jailer,  and  demanded  the  key  of  the  jail.  The 
poor  frightened  official  readily  gave  it  up,  although  he  had  often 
declared  that  he  would  not  surrender  it  to  him,  and  with  it  Moody 
opened  the  doors  and  set  all  the  prisoners  free.  Two  of  them  were 
condemned  to  death ;  one,  who  w\is  condemned  to  die  for  robbery, 
being  unacquainted  with  the  neighborhood,  wandered  about  all  night 
and  next  day  in  the  woods,  and  was  discovered  in  a  hollow  tree  the 
next  evening  by  a  party  of  "  coon-hunters,"  who  brought  him  back ; 
and  he  was  hung  in  front  of  the  jail,  protesting  his  innocence  to  the 
last.  He  was  subsequently  proved  to  be  guiltless  of  the  crime  for 
which  he  suffered ;  and  the  wretch  who  actually  committed  the  deed 
confessed  on  his  death-bed  that  he  it  was  who  did  the  act  for  which 
another  had  suffered.  On  this  occasion,  Moody  was  more  just  thau 
the  law,  and  the  prisoner's  cause  better  than  his  fortune. 

While  the  American  army  was  encamped  at  Morristown,  a  man 
very  shabbily  dressed,  and  mounted  on  a  broken-down  nag,  all  of 
whose  "points"  were  exhibited  to  the  fullest  extent,  was  seen  one 
day  to  enter  the  camp,  and  pass  leisurely  through  it,  scrutinizing 
every  thing  as  he  went ;  and  although  he  assumed  a  perfect  non 
chalance,  and  was  to  all  appearance  a  simple-hearted  and  rather  soft 
headed  -country  farmer,  yet  there  was  something  in  his  manner  which 
attracted  the  attention  of  an  officer,  who  was  drilling  a  squad  of 
recruits  in  the  open  air.  One  of  these  thought  there  was  something 
about  the  face  which  he  recognized,  and  told  his  officer  so.  One  of 
288 


JOSEPH    BETTYS.  35 

the  squad  was  mounted  and  ordered  to  bring  him  back.  Moody— 
for  he  it  was  who  had  thus  boldly  entered  the  American  lines  and 
reconnoitered  their  ranks — shot  him  dead  as  he  came  up,  and  secreted 
the  body  by  the  side  of  the  road.  Another  being  sent  to  assist  the 
first,  Moody  secreted  himself  in  the  woods  and  escaped.  Having 
been  driven  from  his  former  haunts  by  the  untiring  activity  of  the 
Whigs,  and  being  too  well  known  to  venture  much  abroad,  he  deter 
mined  to  join  the  British  army  in  New  York.  While  attempting  to 
cross  to  the  city  with  a  companion  in  an  open  boat,  they  were  cap 
tured,  brought  back  to  Morristown,  and  hung  as  traitors  and  spies. 
Moody  was  said  to  have  come  from  Kingwood  township,  Huntertou 
County,  and  was  employed  by  the  British  to  obtain  recruits  in  New 
Jersey  among  the  Tory  inhabitants,  act  as  a  spy  upon  the  Americans, 
and  by  his  maraudings  to  keep  the  inhabitants  so  busy  at  home  as  to 
prevent  their  joining  or  aiding  the  American  army. 

Another  desperado  of  those  days  was  Joseph,  or  "  Joe  Bettys,"  a 
remarkable  character,  who  figured  in  the  border  wars  of  the  Revolu 
tion.  He  was  a  renegade  from  the  American  army,  and  for  a  long 
while  was  the  scourge  of  the  New  York  frontier.  His  deeds  were 
marked  by  an  equal  boldness  and  cruelty,  that  made  him  the  terror 
of  all  who  had  the  misfortune  to  be  ranked  as  his  enemies.  His 
principal  employment  was  the  abduction  of  citizens  to  be  conveyed 
into  Canada,  for  each  of  whom  he  received  a  bounty ;  and  in  his 
expeditions  for  this  purpose,  he  was  always  accompanied  by  small 
bodies  of  Indians.  His  hour  for  executing  his  projects  was  at  night, 
and  it  frequently  happened  that  his  conduct  was  not  confined  to  the 
securing  of  prisoners,  but  he  often  reveled  in  the  destruction  of  prop 
erty  and  the  infliction  of  cruelty,  and  his  victims  were  often  tor 
mented  by  every  means  his  savage  ingenuity  could  devise.  Cold 
blooded  murder,  and  reckless  barbarities  of  every  kind,  continually 
stained  his  soul.  The  section  of  country  which  suffered  from  his 
marauding  expeditions,  to  this  day  is  rife  with  stories  of  his  daring 
and  ferocity. 

In  the  year  1776,  he  entered  as  Sergeant  in  the  New  York  forces, 
in  which  capacity  he  served  his  country  faithfully,  until,  being  exas 
perated  at  the  treatment  which  he  received  from  one  of  his  superior 
officers,  and  retorting  with  threats  and  menaces,  he  was  reduced  to 

201 


86  TALES    AND    TRADITIONS. 

the  position  of  a  common  sentinel.  This  was  more  than  he  could 
bear,  and  he  would  have  deserted,  had  not  Lieutenant  Ball,  who  had 
before  befriended  him,  anticipating  such  a  step,  applied  and  procured 
.  for  him  appointment  as  Sergeant  on  board  one  of  the  vessels  on  Lake 
Champlain,  commanded  by  Arnold,  which  he  accepted.  In  an  action 
that  ensued,  Bettys  displayed  a  wonderful  daring  and  gallantry, 
which  receiving  no  other  notice  than  the  thanks  of  his  General,  he 
conceived  himself  slighted,  and  determined  to  retaliate.  In  the 
spring  of  1777,  he  deserted  and  went  over  to  the  British  forces,  where 
he  was  soon  elevated  to  the  position  of  a  spy,  in  which  character  he 
carried  on  the  depredations' we  have  spoken  of. 

Among  the  prisoners  that  he  secretly  seized  and  carried  off  in  the 
early  part  of. his  career,  was  Samuel  Patchim,  afterward  a  Captain  in 
the  army.  The  account  of  his  captivity  and  subsequent  hardships, 
as  here  given,  is  as  it  was  related  by  himself: 

"  I  was  captured  by  Bettys,  taken  into  Canada,  and  confined  in 
Chamblee  prison,  in  irons.  I  was  the  only  prisoner  whom  he  had 
on  this  occasion  brought  into  Canada.  There  were  six  or  seven 
more  of  my  neighbors  when  we  started,  to  whom  he  gave  the  oath 
of  allegiance  and  sent  them  back.  As  for  myself,  he  said  I  b:-»<.l 
served  Congress  long  enough,  and  that  I  should  now  serve  the  king. 
lie  wished  me  to  enlist  in  his  company,  but  soon  found  that  this  was 
not  agreeable  to  my  leeling*.  lie  then  swore,  that  if  I  would  not 
serve  the  king,  I  should  remain  in  irons.  I  was  confined  in  Cham 
blee  prison  four  months;  then  I  was  removed  to  Montreal,  and 
thence  to  an  island,  forty-five  miles  up  the  St.  Lawrence,  opposite 
Cadalake  Fort.  There  I  remained  about  one  year.  There  were  five 
prisoners  in  all,  and  we  were  guarded  by  sixty  soldiers,  seven  senti 
nels  at  night.  They  had  left  no  boats  on  the  island  by  which  we 
might  make  our  escape,  yet  we  all  crawled  out  of  the  barracks  at 
night,  and  went  to  the  river  side ;  there  we  made  a  raft  by  means  of 
two  or  three  logs  and  our  suspenders,  on  which  we  sailed  down  the 
river  five  miles,  when  we  landed  on  the  Canada  shore.  There  we 
appropriated  to  our  own  use  a  boat  belonging  to  the  British,  and 
crossed  over  to  the  American  shore.  While  going  down  the  rapids, 
we  had  lost  our  little  stock  of  provisions,  and  for  eight  days  out  of 
twelve  which  we  spent  in  the  woods,  we  had  nothing  to  cat  savt 
292 


JOSEPH   BETTYS. 

frogs  and  rattlesnakes,  and  not  half  enough  of  them.  We  were 
chased  eight  days  by  the  Indians,  and  slept  every  night  on  the  boughs 
of  some  hemlock  trees.  At  length  we  arrived  at  Northwest  Bay, 
on  Lake  Champlain,  when  my  companions,  unable  longer  to  travel, 
utterly  gave  out.  I  then  constructed  a  raft  on  which  to  cross  the 
lake,  and  having  stripped  my  companions  of  their  clothing,  in  order 
to  make  myself  comfortable,  left  them  to  die  of  hunger  and  fatigue, 
and  committed  myself  to  the  wintry  waves.  When  in  about  the 
center  of  the  lake,  I  was  taken  by  the  crew  of  a  British  ship,  and 
conveyed  to  St.  John's,  from  thence  to  Quebec,  and  finally  to  Boston, 
where  I  was  exchanged  and  sent  home." 

Bettys  seemed  to  have  a  particular  delight  in  taking  prisoners 
among  his  own  townsmen,  and  especially  those  against  whom  he 
held  any  grudge.  On  one  occasion,  having  taken  one  whom  he  sup 
posed  to  be  the  object  he  sought,  and  his  prisoner  managing  to 
escape,  he  deliberately  shot  him  dead,  and  then  discovered  that  he 
had  made  a  fatal  mistake,  and  killed  one  of  his  best  friends. 

But  his  bloody  career  was  destined  to  find  a  retributive  end.  One 
day,  in  the  winter  of  1781-2,  a  suspicious-looking  person  was  seen  to 
pass  over  the  farm  of  one  John  Fulmer,  situated  near  Ballston  Lake, 
in  Albany  County.  A  son  of  the  farmer,  Jacob,  immediately  obtained 
the  aid  of  three  of  his  neighbors,  James  and  John  Cory,  and 
Francis  Perkins,  and  started  in  pursuit  of  the  suspicious  stranger. 
There  was  a  light  fall  of  snow  on  the  ground,  by  which  means  his 
course  was  easily  tracked.  But  we  will  give  an  account  of  the  enter 
prise  in  the  words  of  Jacob  Fulmer,  one  of  the  party : 

"  The  morning  had  been  foggy,  and  it  appeared  by  the  track  that 
the  man  had  made  a  circuitous  route,  as  if  lost  or  bewildered.  Aftei 
making  several  turns,  we  carne  at  length  in  sight  of  a  log  house, 
where  one  Hawkins,  a  noted  Tory,  lived,  toward  which  it  appeared 
he  had  laid  a  regular  line.  We  followed  the  track,  and  found  that 
it  went  into  the  house.  We  approached  undiscovered,  for  the  snow 
was  soft,  and  our  footsteps  were  not  heard.  We  went  up  to  the 
door,  and  found  it  was  unfastened,  but  heard  people  talking  within. 
John  Cory,  who  was  the  strongest  of  the  party,  now  went  forward, 
we  following  closely  behind,  and  burst  open  the  door.  The  man 
who  was  the  object  of  our  suspicions  and  search  .sat  at  the  table 


TAT.F.8    AND    TRADITIONS. 

eating  his  breakfast,  with  the  muzzle  of  his  gun  leaning  upon  hfa 
shoulder,  and  the  breech  upon  the  floor  between  his  knees.  He 
grasped  his  musket,  and  presented  it  to  fire  at  us,  but  was  hin 
dered  for  a  moment  to  remove  the  deer-skin  covering  from  the 
?ock,  and  that  moment  lost  his  life.  We  seized  him,  took  pos 
session  of  his  gun,  and  also  two  pistols,  which  he  had  in  his  coat 
pockets,  and  a  common  jack-knife.  We  then  bound  his  arms  behind 
him,  with  a  pocket  handkerchief,  and  conveyed  him  to  my  father's 
house.  As  yet,  we  knew  not  the  name  of  our  prisoner,  but  having 
asked  him,  he  said :  '  My  name  is  Smith.'  My  mother  knew  him, 
and  said :  '  It  is  Joe  Bettys.'  He  hung  his-  head,  and  said :  '  No, 
my  name  is  Smith.'  My  sister  Polly  then  came  to  the  door,  and 
said  :  *  This  is  Joe  Bettys,  I  know  him  well.'  She  had  known  him 
before  he  went  to  Canada,  as  he  had  boarded  at  Lawrence  Van  Epps. 
in  Schenectady  Patent,  while  she  lived  in  the  same  house.  We  then 
conveyed  him  to  John  Cory's  house,  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  distant, 
where  we  pinioned  him  more  firmly.  He  sat  down  in  a  chair  by  the 
fire,  and  asked  permission  to  smoke,  which  was  granted,  and  he  then 
took  out  his  tobacco  box,  and  seemed  to  be  engaged  in  filling  his 
pipe,  but  as  he  stooped  down,  under  pretence  of  lighting  it,  he  threw 
something  toward  the  fire  which  bounded  from  the  forestick  and  fell 
upon  the  hearth.  He  then  seized  it,  and  threw  it  into  the  fire,  before 
any  one  could  prevent.  John  Cory  then  snatched  it  from  the  fire, 
with  a  handful  of  live  coals.  It  was  not  injured.  It  was  a  piece  of 
lead  about  three  inches  long,  and  one  and  a  quarter  inch  wide,  pressed 
together,  and  contained  writhin  it  a  small  piece  of  paper,  on  which 
were  twenty-six  figures,  which  none  of  our  company  could  under 
stand  It  also  contained  an  order,  drawn  on  the  Mayor  of  New 
York,  for  thirty  pounds  sterling,  payable  on  the  delivery  of  the  sheet- 
lead  and  paper  inclosed.  Bettys  showed  much  uneasiness  at  the  loss 
of  the  lead,  and  offered  one  hundred  guineas  to  allow  him  to  burn 
the  paper.  This  we  refused,  for,  though  we  did  not  understand  the 
figures,  we  well  knew  the  character  of  Bettys,  as  I  had  heard  that 
he  had  killed  two  men  at  Shenesborough,  near  Whitehall,  for  fear  of 
being  betrayed  in  regard  to  the  burning  and  plundering  of  a  house  in 
Chaughuawaga,  and  that  he  was  generally  known  as  a  spy." 

The  narrative  goes  on  to  give  the  .particulars  of  the  journey  to 
294 


JOSEPH    BETTYS.  89 

Albany,  and  the  precautions  taken  to  convey  their  prisoner  safely 
through  a  district  abounding  with  Tories,  who  wer$  affected  to  Bet 
tys,  but  no  rescue  was  attempted. 

Much  rejoicing  was  expressed  at  the  capture' of  the  notorious  Bet-, 
tys,  and  when  he  was  marched  through  Albany,  the  people  gathered 
in  masses  to  look  upon  him.     In  a   short   time   he  was  brought   to 
trial,  on  the  charge  of  being  a  spy,  found  guilty,  condemned,  and  ac 
cordingly  executed  in  the  month  of  April,  1782. 

Among  other  similar  excursions,  Bettys  once  made  an  audacious 
eruption  into  the  city  of  Albany,  for  the  purpose  of  abducting  Gen 
eral  Schuyler,  for  whom  he  would  have  received  a  most  liberal  reward 
from  the  authorities  in  Canada?  who  so  long  and  so  vainly  endeavored 
to  get  that  chivalric  officer  into  their  possession.  He  was  unsuccessful. 

The  attempt,  referred  to  above,  of  Joe  Bettys,  to  assassinate  or 
take  prisoner  General  Schuyler,  wras  not  singular  in  the  history  of 
that  brave  and  beloved  officer.  He  seemed  fated  to  be  ever  sur 
rounded  with  perils,  in  the  seclusion  of  his  home  quite  as  much  as 
on  the  field  of  battle.  His  noble  private  character,  his  fortune,  and 
his  high,  unequalled,  unresting  patriotism,  made  him  a  shining  mark 
for  the  malevolence  of  the  British  and  Tories.  His  beautiful  man 
sion,  on  Fish  Creek,  with  his  mills  and  property,  to  the  amount  of 
twenty  thousand  dollars,  was  wantonly  burned  by  order  of  Bur- 
goyne ;  and  his  life  was  in  constant  jeopardy  from  the  hatred  of  his 
minions. 

On  one  occasion  a  Tory,  by  the  name  of  Wattenneyer,  with  a 
gang  of  miscreants  like  himself,  assaulted  his  house,  burst  in  the 
doors,  took  the  guards — who  were  asleep  in  the  basement — prisoners, 
and  sought  the  person  of  the  General ;  but,  by  a  well-managed  ruse, 
he  frightened  them  into  the  belief  that  they  were  being  surrounded, 
and  they  decamped,  taking  with  them  a  large  amount  of  silver  plate 
and  other  valuables.  At  another  period,  an  Indian  had  crept  stealth 
ily  into  the  house,  and  concealed  himself  behind  the  door,  where  lie 
awaited  an  opportunity  to  strike  General  Schuyler  as  he  should  pass 
to  his  chamber.  A  female  servant,  coining  in  through  the  hall,  see 
ing  the  gleam  of  a  blade  hi  the  dim  light,  which  just  enabled  her  to 
recognize  the  outline  of  a  dusky  figure,  with  much  presence  of  mind, 
appeared  not  to  have  made  the  discovery,  but  passed  into  the  room 

295 


40  TALES    AND    TRADITIONS. 

where  the  General  sut,  and,  while  pretending  to  arrange  some  articles 
upon  the  mantel,  in  a  low  voice  informed  him  of  her  discovery  at4 
the  same  time  adding,  aloud : 

"  I  will  call  the  guard  !" 

This  alarmed  the  secreted  warrior,  and,  hearing  the  servant  tread 
upon  a  creaking  board  in  another  hall,  and  believing  the  household 
aroused,  he  fled. 

After  the  surrender  of  Burgoyne,  the  Tories,  smarting  under  the 
disappointment  of  that  event,  and  more  deeply  incensed  than  ever  at 
General  Schuyler,  in  whom  they  recognized  one  of  the  active  causes 
of  the  British  defeat,  resolved  upon  his  destruction.  To  attain  this 
object,  they  selected  two  individuals,  an  Indian  and  a  white  man. 
The  former  had  been  in  the  habit  of  hunting  and  fishing  on  the 
General's  place,  and  knew  every  part  of  the  grounds,  with  the  places 
in  which  they  would  be  most  likely  to  meet  him,  in  his  daily  peram 
bulations.  He  was  a  powerfully-built  and  active  fellow,  a  dangerous 
opponent  under  any  circumstances.  The  other  was  a  weak-minded 
Irishman,  who  had  received  many  favors  from  the  General,  and  was, 
even  then,  in  his  employ ;  notwithstanding  which,  he  could  not  resist 
the  offered  bribes,  and  consented  to  imbue  his  hands  in  his  benefac 
tor's  blood,  for  a  price.  On  the  afternoon  of  a  certain  day,  the  two 
secreted  themselves  in  a  leafy  copse,  near  which  the  General  must 
pass  in  his  accustomed  ride.  It  was  not  long  before  they  saw  him 
approaching  on  horseback,  and  they  proposed  to  shoot  him  as  he 


General  Schuyler  had  been  made  fully  aware,  by  the  abduction  of 
so  many  of  his  friends  and  neighbors,  who  had  been  dragged  from 
their  homes  and  carried  off  to  Canada — there  to  be  retained  as  prig- 
oners  until  exchanged — as  well  as  by  the  many  attempts  to  get  pos 
session  of  his  own  person,  that  he  was  in  constant  danger  of  being 
seized ;  but  he  did  not  imagine  that  his  enemies  would  descend  to 
the  use  of  the  assassin's  knife,  and  much  less  did  he  fea~  that  such  a 
blow  would  come  from  those  whom  he  had  befriended — who  had 
eaten  of  his  bread  and  been  nourished  by  his  bounty.  His  was  one 
of  these  generous  natures  which,  being  devoid  of  guilt,  loved  not  to 
suspect  others.  But  civil  war  destroys  all  ties,  severs  all  bonds, 
arouses  man's  most  vindictive  passions,  arraying  friend  against  Mend, 
296 


HOME    DESECRATION.  4 1 

sometimes  brother  against  brother.  Conscience  will,  at  times,  assert 
herself,  even  under  such  influences.  She  reminded  the  Indian — sav 
age  as  he  was,  unlettered,  untutored  in  the  finer  feelings — of  the 
many  favors  he  had  received  at  the  hands  of  the  man  he  was  about 
to  destroy ;  even  as  his  eye  glanced  along  the  barrel  of  the  rifle  aimed 
at  his  benefactor,  he  repented  his  intention,  and,  with  an  impulse 
which  did  credit  to  his  heart,  he  struck  up  the  weapon  of  his  com 
panion,  saying : 

"  I  cannot  kill  him — I've  eat  his  bread  too  often  !" 

The  General  rode  by,  unconscious  that  his  life  hung  by  the  slender 
thread  of  an  Indian's  conscience. 

One  of  the  saddest  pages  in  the  history  of  our  struggle  for  Inde 
pendence  is  that  which  tells  of  hearths  and  homes  desecrated,  which 
should  have  enjoyed  immunity,  even  in  times  of  warfare.  Not  only 
did  the  British  encourage  the  marauding  of  such  desperadoes  as 
Moody  and  Bettys,  but  their  more  brutal  Hessians  seemed  hired  to 
wreak  the  horrors  of  war  upon  the  innocent  dwellings  of  women 
and  children. 

The  Rev.  James  Caldwell,  pastor  of  the  First  Presbyterian  Church 
in  Elizabethtown,  New  Jersey,  acted  as  Chaplain  of  the  American 
army  while  in  New  Jersey,  and,  by  his  zealous  patriotism,  and  patri 
otic  appeals,  often  contributed  to  arouse  the  spirits  of  the  soldiers, 
and  to  inspire  them  with  a  greater  energy  in  the  performance  of  their 
trying  duties.  He  was  very  popular  in  the  community,  and  received 
the  unlimited  confidence  of  Washington. 

But  his  lofty  patriotism,  and  unflinching  zeal  in  the  American 
cause,  made  him  hated  by  the  enemy,  who  sought  every  means  to  get 
him  into  their  power,  and  a  price  was  set  upon  his  head.  When 
preaching,  he  frequently  was  compelled  to  lay  his  loaded  pistols  by 
liis  side  in  the  pulpit.  At  one  time  he  resided  in  Springfield,  but 
afterward  removed  to  "  Connecticut  Farms,"  about  four  miles  from 
Elizabethtown.  Here  was  enacted  the  first  part  of  the  tragedy  we 
are  about  to  relate. 

A  company  of  British  troops  from  New  York,  under  command  of 
the  Hessian  General,  Knyphausen,  landed  in  Elizabethtown,  in  June 
of  1780,  and,  marching  directly  into  the  interior,  proceeded  to  wreak 
their  cruelty  upon  every  living  thing  that  fell  in  their  way.  Houses 

297 


TALES    AND    TRADITIONS. 

were  fired,  cattle  destroyed,  helpless  people  murdered,  or  left  without 
shelter,  clothing  or  food.  Mr.  Caldwell  heard  of  their  approach,  and 
immediately  prepared  to  escape.  He  put  his  elder  children  in  a 
-wagon,  and  sent  them  on  to  some  of  his  friends  for  protection.  He 
then  desired  his  wife,  with  the  younger  children,  to  take  means  of 
flight,  but  she  announced  her  determination  of  remaining,  as  none 
would  have  cause  to  offer  injury  to  her.  Finding  she  would  not  yield 
to  his  persuasion,  and  believing  it  impossible  that  their  resentment 
could  extend  to  an  unprotected  mother,  with  her  babe  clasped  to  her 
heart,  Mr.  Caldwell  resolved  to  leave  them,  and  seek  his  own  safety 
alone.  He  was  mounted,  and  receiving  the  last  assurance  of  her  re 
solve  to  stay,  when  the  gleam  of  arms  announced  the  approach  of 
the  enemy,  and  he  rode  rapidly  off. 

Mrs.  Caldwell,  having  concealed  what  things  were  of  value,  took 
her  infant  in  her  arms,  and  retired  to  her  chamber,  the  window  of 
which  commanded  the  road.  Here,  with  her  three  little  ones  around, 
she  awaited  the  approach  of  the  enemy,  feeling  conscious  that  her 
unprotected  state  would  secure  respect  and  safety.  One  little  girl 
was  standing  by  the  window,  watching  the  approach  of  the  troops, 
when  one  of  the  soldiers  left  the  road,  and  came  to  the  window, 
which  he  had  no  sooner  reached  than  he  placed  the  muzzle  of  his 
gun  against  it,  and  deliberately  fired,  when  Mrs.  Caldwell  fell  sud 
denly  back,  and  almost  instantly  expired. 

Not  content  with  depriving  her  of  life,  the  inhuman  monsters 
wreaked  their  cruelty  on  her  senseless  body.  Her  clothes  were 
nearly  torn  off,  and  her  body  removed  to  the  road-side,  where  it  was 
subjected  to  every  indignity,  while  the  torch  was  applied  to  the 
dwelling,  and  then  the  work  of  destruction  was  done. 

The  effect  of  this  terrible  blow  upon  the  husband  can  only  be 
imagined.  He  was,  that  morning,  standing  upon  the  heights  of 
Springfield,  and,  by  the  aid  of  a  spy-glass,  could  see  the  smoke  from 
the  burning  houses. 

"  Thank  God,"  he  exclaimed,  "  the  fire  is  not  in  the  direction  of 
my  house." 

He  was  too  soon  to  learn  the  sad  mistake. 

The  royalists  attempted  to  throw  off  the  responsibility  of  this  act, 
by  asserting  that  Mrs.  Caldwell  was  killed  by  a  chance  shot.  But 
293 


MURDER    OF    MRS.    CALDWELL.  43 

all  the  evidence  goes  to  show  that  it  was  deliberately  planned,  and 
that  the  soldier  by  whose  hand  the  bloody  deed  was  committed,  only 
acted  in  accordance  with  his  orders.  The  fact  that  her  body  was  al 
lowed  to  be  so  rudely  treated,  while  many  of  the  officers  felt  their 
abhorrence  for  the  deed,  proves  that,  although  they  felt  respect  for 
her  remains,  they  knew  the  will  of  their  superiors,  and  therefore 
dared  not  show  it. 

The  following  anecdote,  connected  with  this  invasion,  shows  pretty 
clearly  who  were  the  murderers  of  Mrs.  Calclwell.  The  flames  from 
the  burning  dwelling  could  be  seen  from  "  Liberty  Hall,"  the  resi 
dence  of  Governor  Livingston,  who  was,  at  that  time,  absent  from 
home.  Parties  of  soldiers  were  continually  passing  the  house,  but, 
for  some  reason,  it  was  spared.  But  about  midnight  a  party  of  sol 
diers,  partially  intoxicated,  rushed  into  the  house.  The  maid-servant 
— all  the  males  in  the  establishment  having  taken  refuge  in  the  woods, 
early  in  the  day,  to  avoid  being  made  prisoners — fastened  herself  in 
the  kitchen;  and, the  ladies — Mrs.  Livingston  and  her  daughters — 
crowded  together  like  frightened  deer,  locked  themselves  in  w  another 
apartment.  Their  place  of  retreat  was  soon  discovered  by  the  ruf 
fians  ;  and,  afraid  to  exasperate  them  by  refusing  to  come  out,  one  of 
Governor  Livingston's  daughter's  opened  the  door.  A  drunken  sol 
dier  seized  her  by  the  arm ;  she  grasped  the  villain's  collar,  and,  at 
the  very  moment,  a  flash  of  lightning  illuminated  the  hall,  and,  fall 
ing  upon  her  white  dress,  he  staggered  back,  exclaiming,  with  an 
oath  : 

"  It's  Mrs.  Caldwell,  that  we  killed  to-day." 

One  of  the  party  was  at  length  recognized,  and,  by  his  interven 
tion,  the  house  was  finally  cleared  of  the  assailants.* 

But  the  vengeance  of  Mr.  Caldwell's  enemies  was  not  yet  satiated ; 
the  tragedy  so  far  was  incomplete.  It  was  on  the  24th  of  November.. 
1781,  that  he  himself  fell  beneath  the  ruthless  murderer's  hand,  and 
the  blow  this  time  came  from  a  source  where  he  thought  himself 
secure.  On  the  day  above  mentioned,  he  went  to  Elizabethtown 
Point,  for  a  Miss  Murray,  who  had  come  from  New  York,  under  a 
flag  of  truce.  After  conducting  her  to  his  gig,  he  returned  to  the 
boat,  to  obtain  a  bundle  which  had  been  left  behind.  As  he  came  on 

•Life  of  Livingston. 

299 


44  TALES    AND    TRADITIONS. 

shore,  the  American  sentinel  challenged  him,  and  demanded  what 
"  contraband  goods "  he  had  there.  Mr.  Caldwell  stepped  forward 
to  tender  the  bundle  to  the  proper  officer,  not  wishing  to  enter  into  a 
dispute  about  it  then,  when  the  report  of  a  musket  was  heard,  and 
he  fell  dead,  pierced  by  two  balls.  He  had  been  shot  by  a  man 
named  Morgan,  who  had  just  been  relieved  from  duty  as  a  sentinel. 
He  was  arrested,  tried,  condemned,  and  was  executed.  There  can 
be  no  doubt  but  that  he  was  bribed  to  the  deed  by  British  gold,  as 
there  was  no  shadow  of  a  cause  to  suppose  that  enmity  existed  be 
tween  Mr.  Caldwell  and  him. 

Viewed  from  any  point,  these  two  murders  were  among  the  most 
atrocious  acts  perpetrated  by  the  invaders  of  our  country,  and,  in  a 
history  full  of  atrocities,  they  will  always  rank  as  bloody,  fiendish 
and  treacherous. 


THE  LEAP  FOR  LIFE, 

AT  the  siege  of  Fort  Henry,  near  "Wheeling,  by  a  band  of  Indians, 
under  the  infamous  Simon  Girty,  Major  Samuel  McCullough  per 
formed  an  act  of  daring — nay,  desperate  horsemanship,  which  has 
seldom,  if  ever,  been  equalled  by  man  or  beast,  and  before  which  the 
effort  of  the  Pomfret  hero  pales  into  insignificance.  Let  us  turn  to 
the  record. 

Fort  Henry  was  situated  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  above  Wheel 
ing  Creek,  on  the  left  bank  of  the  Ohio  river,  and  was  erected  to 
protect  the  settlers  of  the  little  village  of  Wheeling,  which,  at  the 
time  of  its  investment,  consisted  of  about  twenty-five  cabins.  In  the 
month  of  September,  1775,  it  was  invested  by  about  four  hundred 
warriors,  on  the  approach  of  whom  the  settlers  had  fled  into  it,  leav 
ing  their  cabins  and  their  contents  to  the  torch  of  the  savages.  The 
whole  force  comprising  the  garrison  consisted  of  forty-two  fighting 
men,  all  told ;  but  there  were  among  them  men  who  knew  the  use  of 
the  rifle,  and  who  were  celebrated  throughout  the  borders  as  the  im 
placable  enemies  of  the  red-man,  and  as  the  best  marksmen  in  the 
world.  Of  these,  however,  more  than  one  half  perished  in  an  ill- 
300 


THE    LEAP    FOB    LIFE.  45 

advised  sortie,  before  the  siege  commenced,  and,  when  the  fort  was 
surrounded  by  the  foe,  but  sixteen  men  remained  to  defend  it  against 
their  overwhelming  numbers.  But  their  mothers,  wives  and  daugh 
ters  were  there,  and  nerved  the  Spartan  band  to  deeds  of  heroism  to 
which  the  records  of  the  wars  of  ancient  and  modern  history  preseni 
no  parallel.  Here  it  wTas  that  Elizabeth  Zane  passed  through  the 
fire  of  the  whole  body  of  red-skins,  in  the  effort  to  bring  into  the 
fort  the  ammunition  so  necessary  to  its  defense ;  here  it  was,  also, 
that  the  wives  and  daughters  of  its  noble  defenders  inarched  to  a 
spring,  in  point  blank  range  of  the  ambuscaded  Indians,  in  going  to 
and  fro,  for  the  purpose  of  bringing  water  for  the  garrison. 

Messengers  had  been  dispatched  at  the  earliest  alarm  to  the  neigh 
boring  settlements  for  succor,  and,  in  response  to  the  call,  Captain 
Van  Swearingen,  with  fourteen  men,  arrived  from  Cross  Creek,  and 
fought  his  way  into  the  fort  without  the  loss  of  a  man.  Soon  after 
ward,  a  party  of  forty  horsemen,  led  by  the  brave  and  intrepid  Mc- 
Culloch,  were  seen  approaching,  and  endeavoring  to  force  their  way 
through  the  dense  masses  of  Indians,  which  nearly  surrounded  the 
station.  Their  friends  within  the  fort  made  every  preparation  to  re 
ceive  them,  by  opening  the  gates,  and  organizing  a  sortie  to  cover 
their  attempt.  After  a  desperate  hand-to-hand  conflict,  in  which 
they  made  several  of  the  Indians  bite  the  dust,  they  broke  through 
the  lines,  and  entered  the  fort  in  triumph,  without  the  loss  of  an  in 
dividual.  All  except  their  daring  leader  succeeded  in  the  effort.  He 
was  cut  off,  and  forced  to  fly  in  an  opposite  direction.  McCulloch 
was  as  well  known  to  the  Indians  as  to  the  whites,  for  his  deeds  of 
prowess,  and  his  name  was  associated  in  their  minds  with  some  of 
the  most  bloody  fights  in  which  the  white  and  red-men  had  contended. 
To  secure  him  alive,  therefore,  that  they  might  glut  their  vengeance 
upon,  him,  was  the  earnest  desire  of  the  Indians,  and  to  this  end 
they  put  forth  the  most  superhuman  exertions.  There  were  very 
few  among  them  who  had  not  lost  a  relative  by  the  unerring  aim  and 
skill  of  the  fearless  woodsman,  and  they  cherished  toward  him  an, 
almost  phrenzied  hatred,  which  could  only  be  satisfied  in  his  torture 
at  the  stake. 

With  such  feelings  and  incentives,  tMey  crowded  around  him  as  he 
dashed  forward  in  the  rear  of  his  men,  and  succeeded  in  cutting  him 


40  TALES    AND    TRADITIONS. 

off  from  the  gate.  Finding  himself  unable  to  accomplish  his  en 
trance,  and  seeing  the  uselessness  of  a  conflict  with  such  a  force  op 
posed  to  him,  he  suddenly  wheeled  his  horse,  and  fled  in  the  direction 
of  Wheeling  hill,  at  his  utmost  speed.  A  cloud  of  warriors  started 
up  at  his  approach,  and  cut  off  his  retreat  in  this  direction,  driving 
him  back  upon  another  party  who  blocked  up  the  path  behind  ; 
while  a  third  closed  in  upon  him  on  one  of  the  other  sides  of  the 
square.  The  fourth  and  open  side  was  in  the  direction  of  the  brow 
of  a  precipitous  ledge  of  rocks,  nearly  one  hundred  and  fifty  feet  in 
height,  at  the  foot  of  which  flowed  the  waters  of  Wheeling  Creek. 
As  he  momentarily  halted  and  took  a  rapid  survey  of  the  dangers 
which  surrounded  him  on  all  sides,  he  felt  that  his  chance  was  a  des 
perate  one.  The  Indians  had  not  fired  a  shot,  and  he  well  knew 
what  this  portended,  as  they  could  easily  have  killed  him  had  they 
chosen  to  do  so.  He  appreciated  the  feelings  of  hatred  felt  toward 
him  by  the  foe,  and  saw  at  a  glance  the  intention  to  take  him  alive, 
if  possible,  that  his  ashes  might  be  offered  up  as  a  sacrifice  to  the 
manes  of  their  departed  friends,  slain  by  his  hand.  This  was  to  die 
a  thousand  deaths,  in  preference  to  which  he  determined  to  run  the 
risk  of  being  dashed  to  pieces  ;  and  he  struck  his  heels  against  the 
sides  of  his  steed,  who  sprang  forward  toward  the  precipice.  The 
encircling  warriors  had  rapidly  lessened  the  space  between  them  and 
their  intended  victim,  and,  as  they  saw  him  so  completely  within 
their  toils,  raised  a  yell  of  triumph,  little  dreaming  of  the  fearful  en 
ergy  which  was  to  baffle  their  expectations.  As  they  saw  him  push 
his  horse  in  the  direction  of  the  precipice,  which  they  had  supposed 
an  insurmountable  obstacle  to  his  escape,  they  stood  in  amazement, 
scarcely  believing  that  it  could  be  his  intention  to  attempt  the  awful 
leap,  which  was,  to  all  appearance,  certain  death.  McCulloch  still 
bore  his  rifle,  which  he  had  retained,  in  his  right  hand,  and,  carefully 
gathering  up  the  bridle  in  his  left,  he  urged  his  noble  animal  forward, 
encouraging  him  by  his  voice,  until  they  reached  the  edge  of  the 
bank,  when,  dashing  his  heels  against  his  sides,  they  hung,  shivering 
on  the  brink  of  the  abyss : 

"  For  the  horse,  in  stark  despair, 
With  his  front  hoofs  poised  in  air, 

<3n  the  last  verge  rears  amain. 
803 


EGBERT  JIGGERS'  SLIDK.  47 

"  Now  he  hangs,  he  rocks  between, 
And  his  nostrils  curdle  in  ; 

Now  he  shivers,  head  and  hoof, 

And  the  flakes  of  foam  fall  off, 
And  his  face  grows  fierce  and  thin  ! 

"And  a  look  of  human  wo, 
From  his  staring  eyes  did  go ; 
And  a  sharp  ory  uttered  he 
In  a  foretold  agony 
Of  the  headlong  death  below." 

The  next  moment  horse  and  rider  were  in  the  air.  Down,  down 
they  went  with  fearful  velocity,  without  resistance  or  impediment, 
until  one-half  of  the  space  was  passed  over,  when  the  horse's  feet 
struck  the  smooth,  precipitous  face  of  the  rock,  and  the  remainder  of 
the  distance  was  slid  and  scrambled  over  until  they  reached  the  bot 
tom,  alive  and  uninjured  f  With  a  shout  which  proclaimed  his  tri 
umphant  success  to  his  foes  above  him,  McCulloch  pushed  his  steed 
into  the  stream,  and  in  a  few  moments  horse  and  rider  were  seen 
surmounting  the  banks  on  the  opposite  side. 

No  pursuit  was  attempted,  nor  was  a  shot  fired  at  the  intrepid 
rider.  His  enemies  stood,  in  awe-struck  silence,  upon  the  brow  of 
the  bank  from  whence  he  had  leaped,  and,  as  he  disappeared  from 
their  view,  they  returned  to  the  investment  of  the  fort.  They  did 
not  long  continue  their  unavailing  efforts,  however,  for  its  capture  ; 
the  numerous  additions  it  had  received  to  its  garrison,  the  fearlessness 
exhibited  in  its  defense,  together  with  the  feat  they  had  witnessed, 
disheartened  them,  and  they  beat  a  hasty  retreat  on  the  morning  af 
ter  the  event  I  have  attempted  to  describe — not,  however,  until  they 
had  reduced  to  ashes  the  cabins  without  the  stockade,  and  slaughtered 
some  three  hundred  head  of  cattle  belonging  to  the  settlers. 

An  adventure  equally  marvellous,  and  somewhat  resembling  this, 
is  related  of  Major  Robert  Rogers. 

Among  the  most  noted  characters,  whose  exploits  upon  the  fron 
tier  a  century  since  were  the  theme  and  admiration  of  every  tongue, 
th«  leader  of  the  celebrated  "  Rogers'  Rangers  "  stands  pre-eminent 
He  was  a  man  tall,  vigorous,  and  lithe  as  the  panther  of  the  forest, 
with  an  eye  that  never  quailed  before  the  gaze  of  any  human  being. 
A  perfect  master  of  the  art  of  woodcraft,  he  was  resolute  and  fearless, 

303 


48  TALES   AND    TRADITIONS. 

and  yet  so  cautious  at  times  as  to  incur  a  suspicion  of  cowardice ; 
but,  although  his  name  is  tarnished  by  treachery  to  his  own  native 
state  and  country,  the  impartial  observer  of  his  life  and  actions  can 
not  fail  to  award  him  the  most  unflinching  courage  and  bravery. 

Robert  Roberts  was  born  in  New  Hampshire,  and,  about  the  year 
1760,  was  the  leader  of  a  body  of  provincial  rangers,  known  by  his 
own  name.  Among  his  associates  wras  Israel  Putnam,  whose  most 
daring  exploits  were  performed  while  engaged  with  him  in  his  forest 
warfare. 

The  date  whieh  brought  Rogers  into  notice  was  that  in  which  the 
great  rival  nations,  France  and  England,  were  striving  for  the  pos 
session  of  the  American  continent.  The  rivalry  had  been  going  on 
for  years,  and,  as  might  be  expected,  the  Indians  had  been  brought 
into  the  contest.  These,  almost  invariably,  were  upon  the  side  of 
the  French  ;  but  it  availed  nothing  in  the  end.  The  steady,  indomi 
table,  persevering  spirit  of  the  English  settler  could  be  stayed  by  no 
obstacle,  and  France  saw  that  slowly  and  surely  the  red  cross  was 
supplanting  her  own  fleur  de  Us  in  the  depths  of  the  American 
forest. 

Rogers'  principal  theater  of  action  was  that  wild,  mountainous 
region  round  Lake  George,  "  the  dark  and  bloody  ground  "  interven 
ing  between  the  hostile  forts  of  Crown  Point  and  Ticonderoga. 
Here,  in  these  gloomy  solitudes,  his  resolute  spirit  encountered  the 
jealous  French,  with  their  wily  Indian  allies,  and  here  some  of  the 
most  sanguinary  conflicts  and  desperate  encounters  of  the  war  occur 
red.  More  than  once  did  the  lonely  hunter  encounter  this  band 
threading  their  way  through  the  woods  as  silent  and  as  cautious  as 
the  savage  himself;  in  summer  they  glided  across  and  around  the 
lake  in  their  canoes,  building  their  camp-fires  in  the  wildest  gorges  of 
that  romantic  country ;  and  in  winter  they  skirted  it  on  snow-shoes, 
or  shot  from  one  portion  to  another  on  skates.  Their  daring  soon 
made  their  name  famous  through  every  civilized  portion  of  the  coun 
try.  If  a  French  messenger  left  Ticonderoga,  he  was  almost  certain 
to  fall  into  the  hands  of  Rogers,  and  any  scouting  party  that  ven 
tured  forth  was  sure  to  get  a  taste  of  the  mettle  of  these  fellows  be 
fore  they  returned.  But  for  the  subsequent  course  of  Rogers,  ho 
might  be  not  unaptly  termed  the  Marion  of  the  frontier. 
304 


ROBERT  ROGERS'  SLIDE.  51 

It  was  sometimes  the  custom  of  Rogers  to  leave  his  men  in  camp, 
and  venture  into  the  forest  unaccompanied  by  any  one.  At  such 
times  he  often  wandered  a  dozen  miles  away,  easily  making  his  way 
back  through  the  trackless  forest  at  night  again.  It  was  on  one  of 
these  occasions  that  he  met  with  the  following  adventure. 

It  was  in  the  dead  of  winter,  and  his  men,  as  usual,  were  on  snow- 
shoes.  They  encamped  at  night  in  a  deep  hollow  along  the  lake, 
and  the  next  morning  Rogers  left  them,  with  instructions  to  remain 
in  their  present  quarters  until  his  return. 

He  took  a  direction  toward  Ticonderoga,  and,  about  the  middle  of 
the  day,  reached  a  point  near  the  northern  end  of  the  lake.  During 
this  journey,  it  is  hardly  necessary  to  say  that  he  was  on  the  aleit/or 
his  enemies.  He  knew  they  lurked  in  every  part  of  the  forest,  and 
that  the  scalp  of  no  white  man  would  afford  half  the  rejoicing  that 
his  would.  Up  to  this  point,  however,  his  experienced  eye  had  failed 
to  detect  the  first  signs  of  their  presence. 

He  was  contemplating  the  scene  around,  carefully  taking  in  all  its 
parts,  when  he  heard  the  breaking  of  the  snow-crust  behind  him. 
Turning  his  head,  he  discovered,  in  one  instant,  that  he  had  walked 
directly  into  a  trap.  On  one  side  was  the  steep,  precipitous  side  of 
the  mountain,  descending  down  to  the  lake ;  while  on  the  other,  radi 
ating  outward,  so  as  to  cut  off  all  escape,  he  saw  nearly  thirty  Indians 
rapidly  shuffling  toward  him  on  their  snow-shoes,  yelling  with  delight 
and  exultation  at  the  prospect  of  his  certain  capture. 

They  had  probably  followed  him  for  miles,  in  the  hope  of  taking 
him  alive,  and  he  had  thus  given  them  a  better  opportunity  than  even 
they  dared  hope  for. 

Rogers  comprehended  his  imminent  danger,  but  he  stood  a  moment 
»s  quiet  and  self-possessed  as  if  they  were  his  own  men  approaching. 
It  took  scarcely  a  second  for  him  to  understand  his  situation.  He 
saw  it  was  impossible  to  elude  the  Indians  by  undertaking  to  dodee. 
through  them — that  is,  by  running  toward  them  ;  they  were  too  many, 
and  the  space  afforded  was  too  small. 

"  Howsumever,  here's  my  compliments,"  said  Rogers,  raising  his 
rifle  and  shooting  the  leader  of  the  party,  "  and  you  haven't  got  my 
top-knot  yet." 

With  this,  he  threw  his  rifle  from  him,  and  started  off  at  the  top 

307 


52  TALES    AND    TRADITIONS. 

liis  speed,  the  pack  pursuing  with  yells  and  shouts.  Rogers  was  very 
fleet  of  foot,  and  for  a  short  distance  he  gained  ground  upon  his  pur 
suers.  It  was  not  exactly  running,  as  a  man  on  snow-shoes  can  not 
properly  be  said  to  do  that.  The  motion  is  entirely  different,  the 
feet  not  being  lifted,  but  shoved  forward  with  all  rapidity  possible. 
As  Rogers  expressed  it,  he  did  some  "tall  sliding"  on  that  occasion, 
the  truth  of  which  will  soon  be  apparent. 

At  the  moment  of  starting  he  had  no  well-defined  idea  of  what  he 
should  do ;  but  after  going  a  few  rods,  he  formed  the  determination 
that,  before  falling  into  the  hands  of  the  Indians,  he  would  go  over  the 
mountain'!  Those  who  have  seen  the  mountain,  near  the  northern 
end  of  Lake  George,  known  as  "  Roger's  slide "  (the  name  of  which 
is  derived  from  the  circumstance  here  given),  will  understand  the 
appalling  nature  of  such  an  exploit  as  Rogers  contemplated.  Any 
sane  man  would  consider  it  downright  suicide.  We  know  not  the 
exact  distance  of  this  descent,  but  are  certain  that  it  is  more  than  one 
thousand  feet  to  the  edge  of  the  lake,  and  the  entire  distance  a  sheer 
precipice. 

But  Rogers  did  not  hesitate ;  there  was  no  time  for  hesitation. 
His  mortal  enemies  were  behind  and  approaching.  He  reached  the 
edge  of  the  mountain.  He  saw  the  white,  field-like  surface  of  Lake 
George  far  below  him,  and  the  long,  glistening  snowy  descent  stretch 
ing  down,  down,  down,  till  the  brain  grew  dizzy  with  looking.  He 
appeared  but  a  mere  speck  on  the  summit,  viewed  from  below,  so 
great  was  his  height.  He  gave  one  glance  behind  him,  sprang  high 
in  the  air,  so  as  to  give  his  bocly'a  momentum  at  starting,  and  squat 
ting  on  his  snow-shoes,  down  he  went, 

Oh,  the  ecstacy  of  that  ride !  Nothing  on  earth  could  equal  it. 
Rogers  has  said  that  the  most  thrilling  moment  of  his  life  was  the 
one  occupied  in  that  fearful  descent.  As  his  body  gathered  motion, 
a  feeling  similar  to  that  produced  by  electricity  passed  through  him, 
and  for  the  space  of  five  minutes  he  was  in  reality  insane.  Down 
ward  he  shot  like  a  meteor,  his  passage  through  the  still  air  making 
it  seem  like  a  hurricane,  and  the  fine,  sand-like  particles  of  snow 
making  him  appear  as  if  shrouded  in  mist  to  the  amazed  Indians 
above.  Rogers  scarcely  breathed.  He  saw  nothing,  felt  nothing  but 
a  wild  ecstacy,  and  knew  nothing,  until  he  awoke,  as  it  were,  and 
308 


WEATHERFORD' s  LEAP.  53 

found  liimself  gliding  far  out  on  the  surface  of  the  lake,  carried  for 
ward  by  the  irresistible  impulse  he  had  gained  in  his  descent. 

Then  he  arose  and  looked  about  him.  His  snow-shoes  were  worn 
out  by  the  friction,  and  taking  them  off,  he  cast  them  from  him. 
The  Indians  still  stood  at  the  top  of  the  mountain ;  but  on  beholding 
his  exploit,  they  believed  him  under  the  protection  of  the  Great 
Spirit,  and  did  not  attempt  to  continue  the  chase.  Rogers  made  his 
way  back  to  his  company,  reaching  them  late  at  night,  and  none  the 
worse  for  his  adventure,  except  in  the  loss  of  his  snow-shoes  and 
his  rifle. 

There  are  many  other  incidents  connected  with  Rogers'  career,  but 
the  one  given  will  suffice  to  show  the  intrepid  spirit  that  ever  char 
acterized  him. 

As  if  to  prove  that,  brave  as  the  pioneers  were,  they  had  their  peers 
amid  the  "  red-skins,"  we  find  the  record  of  a  leap,  almost  as  mar 
velous  as  that  of  McCullough,  performed  by  Weatherford,  the  cele 
brated  half-breed,  who  gave  Jackson  trouble  in  his  efforts  to  rid  the 
southern  country  of  the  Indians. 

It  was  on  the  29th  of  December,  1813,  that  the  Mississippi  volun 
teers  attacked  the  Indians,  under  circumstances  of  almost  unparalleled 
difficulty,  after  enduring  incredible  hardships.  Without  tents  or 
blankets,  without  proper  clothing,  more  than  half  starved,  some  of 
them  without  shoes,  in  inclement  weather,  this  heroic  band  had 
marched  over  one  hundred  miles  through  a  pathless  forest,  to  meet 
and  subdue  the  wary  foe.  And  now,  on  this  29th  of  December,  says 
General  Samuel  Dale,  who  was  one  of  the  party,  "  the  weather  was 
very  wet  and  bitter  cold  ;  we  had  neither  meat,  coffee,  nor  spirits." 
The  savages  were  fortified  in  a  strong  defensive  position,  a  town 
which  they  called  their  holy  city,  and  which  their  prophets  declared 
was  invulnerable  to  the  whites — that  the  ground  would  open  and 
swallow  them  up,  should  they  venture  to  set  foot  on  it.  Neverthe 
less,  the  gaunt  volunteers,  worn  with  their  sufferings,  gave  such  fierce 
battle  to  the  confident  Indians,  that  they  drove  them  out  of  their  holy 
city  of  refuge,  and  Weatherford,  one  of  their  most  trusted  leaders, 
barely  escaped  destruction.  He  was  mounted  on  a  powerful  charger, 
and  being  hotly  pursued  by  a  band  of  whites,  who  knew  him  well, 
and  were  eager  to  secure  the  prize,  he  urged  his  horse  to  its  utmost 

309 


5*  TALES    AND    TRADITIONS. 

speed.  Soon  a  ravine,  at  least  twenty  feet  wide,  and  of  great  depth, 
yawned  before  him ;  the  very  barrier  of  nature  which  he  had  relied 
on  as  a  protection  in  case  of  assault  from  enemies,  now  rose  before 
him,  to  threaten  his  own  life.  But  he  only  drew  the  rein  a  little 
tighter,  spoke  a  low  word  to  his  favorite  steed,  and  over  the  horrible 
ravine  flew  the  obedient  animal,  as  if  love  and  fear  had  given  it 
wings — over  the  gaping  ruin,  and  clown  the  bluff  into  the  Alabama. 
The  gallant  courser  swam  the  river  scornfully,  his  chief  holding  his 
rifle  excitedly  over  his  head,  and  shouting  his  war-whoop  exultingly, 
as  he  ascended  the  opposite  bank. 

This  renowned  leader  was  born  at  -the  Hickory  Ground,  in  the 
Creek  nation ;  his  father,  Charles  Weatherford,  was  a  Geoigian ;  his 
mother,  the  beautiful  Schoya,  was  half-sister  of  the  famous  Creek 
chieftain,  General  McGilivray.  William  Weatherford  had  not  the 
education  of  his  grandfather,  but  nature  had  endowed  him  with  a 
noble  person,  a  brillant  intellect,  and  commanding  eloquence.  He 
was,  in  every  respect,  the  peer  of  Tecumseh. 

And  now  that  we  have  mentioned  the  name  of  General  Dale,  we 
can  not  forbear  giving,  in  his  own  words,  an  account  of  one  of  his 
characteristic  adventures.  His  live  was  full  of  such.  He  calls  it  his 
canoe  fight : 

"  After  this  rencounter,  I  put  thirty  of  my  men  on  the  east  bank, 
where  the  path  ran  directly  by  the  river  side.  With  twenty  men  I 
kept  the  western  bank,  and  thus  we  proceeded  to  Randon's  Landing. 
A  dozen  fires  were  burning,  and  numerous  scaffolds  for  drying  meat 
denoted  a  large  body  of  Indians;  but  none  were  visible.  About 
half  past  ten,  A.  M.,  we  discovered  a  large  canoe  coming  clown  stream. 
It  contained  eleven  warriors.  Observing  that  they  were  about  to 
land  at  a  cane-brake  just  above  us,  I  called  to  my  men  to  follow,  and 
dashed  for  the  brake  with  all  my  might.  Only  seven  of  my  men 
kept  up  with  me.  As  the  Indians  were  in  the  act  of  landing,  we 
fired.  Two  leaped  into  the  water.  Jim  Smith  shot  one  as  he  rose, 
and  I  shot  the  other.  In  the  meantime,  they  had  backed  into  deep 
water,  and  three  Indians  were  swimming  on  the  off  side  of  the  canoe, 
which  was  thirty  odd  feet  long,  four  feet  deep,  and  three  feet  beam , 
made  of  an  immense  cypress-tree,  especially  for  the  transportation  of 
corn.  One  of  the  warriors  shouted  to  Weatherford  (who  was  in  the- 


GENERAL    DALE'S    FIGHT.  55 

vicinity,  as  it  afterward  appeared,  but  invisible  to  us) :  '  Yos-ta-hah  I 
yos-ta-hah  !'  ('  They  are  spoiling  us.')  This  fellow  was  in  the  water, 
his  hands  on  the  gunwale  of  the  pirogue,  and  as  often  as  he  rose  to 
shout,  we  fired,  but  didn't  make  out  to  hit  him.  He  suddenly  showed 
himself  breast-high,  whooping  in  derision,  and  said :  '  Why  don't  you 
shoot?'  I  drew  my  sight  just  between  his  hands,  and  as  he  rose 
again  I  lodged  a  bullet  in  his  brains.  Their  canoe  then  floated  down 
with  the  current.  I  ordered  my  men  on  the  east  bank  to  fetch  the 
boats.  Six  of  them  jumped  into  a  canoe,  and  paddled  to  the  Indians, 
when  one  of  them  cried  out :  '  Live  Injins !  Back  water,  boys,  back 
water !'  and  the  frightened  fellows  paddled  back  faster  than  they 
came.  I  next  ordered  Csesar,  a  free  negro,  to  bring  a  boat.  Seeing 
him  hesitate,  I  swore  I  would  shoot  him  as  soon  as  I  got  across.  He 
crossed  a  hundred  yards  below  the  Indians,  and  Jim  Smith,  Jerry 
Anstill,  and  myself,  got  in.  I  made  Csesar  paddle  within  forty 
paces,  when  all  three  of  us  leveled  our  guns,  and  all  three  missed 
fire !  As  the  two  boats  approached,  one  of  the  red-skins  hurled  a 
scalping-knife  at  me.  It  pierced  the  boat  through  and  through,  just 
grazing  my  thigh  as  it  passed.  The  next  minute  the  canoes  came  in 
contact.  I  leaped  up,  placing  one  of  my  feet  in  each  boat.  At  the 
same  instant,  the  foremost  warrior  leveled  his  rifle  at  my  breast.  It 
flashed  in  the  pan.  As  quick  as  lightning,  he  clubbed  it,  and  aimed 
at  me  a  furious  blow,  which  I  partially  parried,  and,  before  he  could 
repeat  it,  I  shivered  his  skull  with  my  gun.  In  the  meantime  an 
Indian  had  struck  down  Jerry,  and  was  about  to  dispatch  him,  when 
I  broke  my  rifle  over  his  head.  It  parted  in  two  pieces.  The  barrel 
Jerry  seized,  and  renewed  the  fight.  The  stock  I  hurled  at  one  of 
the  savages.  Being  then  disarmed,  Caesar  handed  me  his  musket 
and  bayonet.  Finding  myself  unable  to  keep  the  two  canoes  in 
juxtaposition,  I  resolved  to  bring  matters  to  an  issue,  and  leaped  into 
the  Indian  boat.  My  pirogue,  with  Jerry,  Jim  and  Caesar,  floated 
off.  Jim  fired,  slightly  wounding  the  savage  nearest  me.  /  now 
stood  in  tJie  center  of  their  canoe,  two  dead  at  my  feet,  a  wounded  savage 
in  the  stern,  who  Jiad  been  snapping  his  piece  at  me,  during  the  fight, 
and  four  powerful  warriors  in  front.  The  first  one  directed  a  furious 
blow  at  me  with  a  rifle ;  it  glanced  upon  the  barrel  of  my  musket, 
and  I  staved  the  bayonet  through  his  boclv.  As  he  fell,  the  next  one 

311 


56  TALES    AND    TRADITIONS 

repeated  the  attack.  A  shot  from  Jerry  Anstill  pierced  his  heart. 
Striding  over  them,  the  next  sprang  at  me  with  his  tomahawk.  I 
killed  him  with  my  bayonet,  and  his  corpse  lay  between  me  and  the 
last  of  the  party.  I  knew  him  well — Tas-cha-chee,  a  noted  wrestler, 
and  the  most  famous  ball-player  of  his  clan.  He  paused  a  moment, 
in  expectation  of  my  attack,  but,  finding  me  motionless,  he  stepped 
backward  to  the  bow  of  the  canoe,  shook  himself,  gave  the  war-whoop 
of  his  tribe,  and  cried  out :  ' Samtholocco,  Tana  daltmaska,  ia-lancsthe, 
lipso,  lipso,  lanestha  /'  ('  Big  Sam,  I  am  a  man !  I  am  coming  !  come 
on !')  As  he  said  this,  with  a  terrific  yell,  he  bounded  over  il:e  dead 
body  of  his  comrade,  and  directed  a  blow  at  my  head  with  his  rifle 
which  dislocated  my  shoulder.  I  dashed  the  bayonet  into  him.  It 
glanced  around  his  ribs,  and  hitching  into  his  back-bone,  I  pressed 
him  down.  As  I  pulled  the  weapon  out,  he  put  his  hands  upon  the 
sides  of  the  boat,  and  endeavored  to  rise,  crying  out:  lTas-cha-chee  is 
a  man.  He  is  not  afraid  to  die.1  I  drove  my  bayonet  through  his 
heart.  I  then  turned  to  the  wounded  villain  in  the  stern,  who 
snapped  his  rifle  at  me,  as  I  advanced,  as  he  had  been  snapping  it 
during  the  whole  conflict.  He  gave  the  war-whoop,  and  in  tones  of 
hatred  and  defiance,  exclaimed :  '/  am  a  warrior — /  am  not  afraid  to 
die/'  As  he  uttered  these 'words,  I  pinned  him  down  with  my 
weapon,  and  he  followed  his  eleven  comrades  to  the  land  of  spirits. 
During  this  conflict,  which  was  over  in  ten  minutes,  my  brave  com 
panions,  Smith  and  Anstill,  had  been  struggling  with  the  current  of 
the  Alabama,  endeavoring  to  reach  me.  Their  guns  had  become 
useless,  and  their  only  paddle  was  broken.  Two  braver  fellows  never 
lived.  Anstill's  first  shot  saved  my  life.  By  this  time  my  men  came 
running  down  the  bank,  shouting  that  Weatherford  was  coming. 
With  our  three  canoes  we  crossed  them  all  over,  and  reached  the 
fort  in  safety." 

This  fight  occurred  November  13, 1813,  at  Randon's  Landing,  Mon 
roe  County,  ten  miles  below  Weatherford's  Bluff. 

If  any  one  thinks  this  a  Munchausen  account,  given  by  Dale,  of 
his  rencounter,  he  can  satisfy  himself  of  its  exact  truth,  by  reference 
to  the  records,  all  the  circumstances  of  this  memorable  fight  having 
been  verified  before  the  Alabama  Legislature. 

One  of  the  leading  spirits  in  those  stirring  days  was  Mrs.  Cather- 
312 


MRS.    CATHERINE    SEVffiR.  57 

ine  Sevier,  wife  of  one  of  the  most  distinguished  pioneers.  Her 
maiden  name  was  Sherrill,  and  her  family,  as  well  as  that  of  her 
future  husband,  emigrated  from  North  Carolina  and  Virginia  to  what 
is  now  East  Tennessee,  settling  first  upon  Watauga  river.  Mr.  Sher- 
rill's  residence  was  finally  upon  the  Nola  Chucka.  He  was  a  tiller 
of  the  soil,  a  hard-working  man,  and  "  well-to-do  in  the  world ;"  but 
he  was  also  skilled  in  the  use  of  the  rifle,  so  that  it  was  said,  "  Sher 
rill  can  make  as  much  out  of  the  ground  and  out  of  the  woods  as 
any  other  man.  He  has  a  hand  and  eye  to  his  work — a  hand,  an 
eye,  and  an  ear,  for  the  Indian  and  the  game." 

Buffalo,  deer,  and  wild  turkeys  came  around  the  cabins  of  those 
first  settlers.  A  providence  was  in  this  which  some  of  them  recog 
nized  with  thankfulness. 

Jacob  Brown,  with  his  family  and  friends,  arrived  from  North 
Carolina  about  the  same  time  with  the  Sherrills,  and  these  two  families 
became  connected  by  intermarriage  with  the  Seviers,  and  ever  remained 
faithful  to  each  other  through  all  the  hostile  and  civil  commotions  of 
subsequent  years.  The  Seviers  were  among  the  very  earliest  emigrants 
from  Virginia,  aiding  in  the  erection  of  the  first  fort  on  the  Watauga. 

With  few  exceptions,  these  emigrants  had  in  view  the  acquisition 
of  rich  lands  for  cultivation  and  inheritance.  Some,  indeed,  were 
there,  or  came,  who  were  absconding  debtors,  or  refugees  from  jus 
tice,  and  from  this  class  were  the  Tories  of  North  Carolina  mostly 
enlisted. 

The  spirit  of  the  hunter  and  pioneer  cannot  well  content  itself  in 
a  permanent  location,  especially  when  the  crack  of  a  neighbor's  rifle, 
or  the  blast  of  his  hunting-horn  can  be  heard  by  his  quick  ear ;  there 
fore  did  these  advanced  guards  frequently  change  their  homes  when 
others  crowded  them,  at  miles  distance.  It  must  be  remembered  that 
their  advance  into  the  wilderness  could  only  be  made  by  degrees, 
step  by  step,  through  years  of  tedious  waiting  and  toilsome  prepara 
tion.  And  thus,  though  they  had  a  lease  of  the  land  for  eight  years 
from  the  Cherokees,  a  foothold  in  the  soil,  stations  of  defense,  and 
evidently  had  taken  a  bond  of  fate,  assuring  them  in  the  prospect  of 
rich  inheritances  for  their  children,  they  could  not  all  abide  while  the 
great  West  and  greater  Future  invited  onward.  Richer  lands,  larger 
herds  of  buffaloes,  more  deer,  and  withal  so  many  Indians  were  in  the 

313 


58  TALES    AND    TRADITIONS. 

distance,  upon  the  Cumberland  and  Kentucky  rivers.  The  emigrants 
advanced,  and  they  took  no  steps  backward.  In  a  few  years  they 
were  found  organizing  "  provisional  governments "  in  Kentucky,  and 
at  the  Bluffs,  the  site  of  the  beautiful  capital  of  Tennessee.  These 
Watauga  and  Nola  Chucka  pioneers  were  leading  spirits  throughout. 

In  the  first  Cherokee  war  of  1776,  the  early  settlements  were  in 
great  danger  of  being  destroyed.  The  prowling  savages  plucked  off 
the  settlers  in  detail,  and,  though  somewhat  successful  in  these  aims, 
they  resolved  to  attack  the  settlements  and  stations  at  different  points 
on  the  same  day — in  June,  1776.  But  they  were  so  defeated  in  the 
battles  of  Long  Island,  and  at  the  Island  Flats,  on  the  Holston,  and 
in  their  attack  and  siege  of  the  Watauga  Fort,  that  a  happy  chance 
was  wrought,  and  hopes  of  quiet  were  encouraged. 

The  attack  on  the  latter  station  was  conducted  by  an  experienced 
Indian  chief,  Old  Abraham,  of  the  Chilowee  Mountain  region.  This 
was  a  fierce  attack,  but  the  fort  fortunately  held  within  it  two  of  the 
most  resolute  men  who  ever  touched  the  soil  of  Tennessee — James 
Robertson  and  John  Sevier — they  having  then  no  higher  title  than 
Captains.  Some  thirty  men  were  under  their  command  or  direction. 

The  approach  of  the  Indians  was  stealthy,  and  the  first  alarm  was 
given  by  the  flight  and  screams  of  some  females,  who  were  closely 
pursued  by  the  Indians  in  large  force.  One  of  the  women  was  killed, 
and  one  or  two  captured.  In  this  party  of  females  was  Miss  Cath 
erine  Sherrill,  daughter  of  Samuel  Sherrill,  who  had  moved  into  the 
fort  only  on  the  previous  day. 

Miss  Sherrill  was  already  somewhat  distinguished  for  nerve,  fleet- 
ness  of  foot,  and  decision  of  character.  Although  at  other  times  she 
proved  herself  to  "  know  no  fear,"  and  could  remain  unmoved  when 
danger  threatened,  yet  on  this  occasion  she  admits  that  she  did  run, 
and  "  run  her  best."  She  was  very  tall  and  erect,  her  whole  appear 
ance  such  as  to  attract  the  especial  notice  of  the  savages,  who  pur 
sued  her  with  eagerness ;  and,  as  they  intercepted  the  direct  path  to 
the  gate  of  the  fort,  she  made  a  circuit  to  reach  its  inclosures  on 
another  side,  resolved,  as  she  said,  to  "  scale  the  palisades."  In  this 
effort,  some  one  within  the  defenses  attempted  to  aid,  but  his  foot 
slipped,  or  the  object  on  which  he  was  standing  gave  way,  and  both 
fell  to  the  ground  on  opposite  sides  of  the  wall.  The  Indians  were 
314 


CAPTAIN    JOHN    SETTER.  59 

coming  with  all  speed,  firing  and  shooting  arrows  repeatedly.  "  In 
deed,"  she  said  "  the  bullets  and  arrows  came  like  hail.  It  was  now 
leap  the  palisades  or  die,  for  I  would  not  live  a  captive."  She 
recovered  from  the  fall,  and  in  a  moment  was  over  and  within  the 
defenses,  and  "  by  the  side  of  one  in  uniform." 

This  was  none  other  than  Captain  John  Sevier,  and  this  the  first 
time  she  ever  saw  him — the  beginning  of  an  acquaintance  destined 
in  a  few  years  to  ripen  into  a  happy  union  which  endured  for  nearly 
forty  years.  "  The  manner  hi  which  she  ran  and  jumped  on  that 
occasion  was  often  the  subject  of  remark,  commendation  and 
laughter." 

In  after  life  she  looked  upon  this  introduction,  and  the  manner  of 
it,  as  a  providential  indication  of  their  adaptation  to  each  other — 
that  they  were  destined  to  be  of  mutual  help  in  future  dangers,  and 
to  overcome  obstacles  requiring  the  peculiar  strength  of  both.  And 
she  always  deemed  herself  safe  when  by  his  side.  Many  a  time 
she  said : 

"  I  could  gladly  undergo  that  peril  and  effort  again,  to  fall  into  his 
arms,  and  feel  so  out  of  danger.  But  then,"  she  would  add,  "  it  was 
all  of  God's  good  providence." 

Captain  Sevier  was  then  a  married  man,  his  wife  and  younger 
children  not  having  yet  arrived  from  Virginia. 

In  1777,  Captain  Sevier  received  a  commission  from  the  State  of 
North  Carolina,  and  was  thus  decidedly  enlisted  in  the  cause  of 
American  Independence  ;  not  long  after  this  he  was  honored  with  the 
commission  of  Colonel,  bearing  the  signature  of  George  Washington. 
Two  years  later,  his  wife  died,  leaving  him  ten  children.  The  follow 
ing  year  he  married  Miss  Sherrill,  who  devoted  herself  earnestly  to 
all  the  duties  of  her  station,  and  to  meet  the  exigencies  of  the  times. 

It  may  well  be  supposed  that  the  women  spun,  wove  and  made 
up  the  most  of  the  clothing  worn  by  these  backwoods  people.  Girls 
were  as  well  skilled  in  these  arts,  as  were  the  boys  to  those  belong 
ing  to  their  circle  of  duties.  It  was  always  a  source  of  much  gratifi 
cation  to  Mrs.  Sevier,  and  one  of  which  she  fondly  boasted,  that, 
"  among  the  first  work  she  did,  after  her  marriage,  was  to  make  the 
clothes  which  her  husband  and  his  three  sons  wore  the  day  they 
were  in  the  memorable  and  important  battle  of  King's  Mountain." 

815 


CO  TALES    AND    TRADITIONS. 

And  she  would  remark :  "  Had  his  ten  children  been  sons,  and 
large  enough  to  serve  in  that  expedition,  I  could  have  fitted  them 
out." 

Mrs.  Sevier  was  often  left  alone  to  manage  domestic  affairs,  not 
only  within  doors,  but  without.  The  life  of  Colonel  Sevier  was  one 
of  incessant  action,  adventure  and  contest.  The  calls  of  his  fellow- 
citizens,  and  the  necessities  of  the  times,  withdrew  him  frequently 
from  home.  No  commander  was  more  frequently  engaged  in  conflicts 
writh  the  Indians,  with  equal  success  and  such  small  loss  of  men. 
Yet  it  is  a  notable  fact  that  he  enjoyed,  to  a  remarkable  extent,  the 
respect  of  the  tribes  and  chiefs  with  whom  he  contended.  It  is  an 
historical  fact  that  he  took  to  his  own  home,  on  the  Chucka,  a  num 
ber  of  Indian  prisoners,  where  they  were  treated  with  so  much 
kindness  by  his  wrife  and  family,  that  several  of  them  remained  for 
years,  although  they  performed  very  little  work,  and  this  wholly 
at  their  own  option.  The  influence  of  Mrs.  Sevier  was  intentionally 
and  happily  exerted  upon  these  captives,  that  it  might  tell,  as  it  did, 
upon  their  friends  within  the  nation  ;  and  the  family,  no  doubt,  en 
joyed  more  immunities  than  otherwise  they  could  have  expected. 

The  Colonel  acquired  a  sobriquet  among  the  Indians,  which  was 
some  evidence  of  their  familiarity  with,  and  attachment  to  him.  As 
long  as  he  lived  they  called  him  "  Chucka  Jack."  They  had  one, 
also,  for  Mrs.  Sevier,  but  it  has  not  been  preserved.  She  usually  re 
mained  at  the  farm,  and  never  would  consent  to  be  shut  up  in  a 
block-house,  always  saying : 

"  The  wife  of  John  Sevier 
Knows  no  fear." 

"Who  would  stay  out  if  his  family  forted  ?" 

This  \vas  the  spirit  of  the  heroine — this  was  the  spirit  of  Cather 
ine  Sevier.  Neither  she  nor  her  husband  seemed  to  think  there  could 
be  danger  or  loss  when  they  could  encourage  or  aid  others  to  daring, 
to  duty  and  to  usefulness.  Colonel  Sevier  at  one  time  advised  her  to 
go  into  the  fort,  but  yielded  to  her  respectful  remonstrance.  At  one 
time  the  Tories,  who  were  worse  and  more  troublesome  enemies  than 
the  savages,  came  to  her  house,  and  demanded  her  husband's  where 
abouts,  finally  avowing  their  intention  was  to  hang  him  on  the  high 
est  tree  hi  front  of  his  house,  but  that  if  she  would  tell  them  where 
316 


THE    WOMEN    GOING    TO    THE    SPRING.  61 

he  was,  she  and  her  children  should  be  safe.  Of  course  she  refused 
to  give  the  information.  One  man  drew  a  pistol,  threatening  to  blow 
her  brains  out  if  she  did  not  tell,  or,  at  least,  give  up  all  the  money 
she  had. 

"  Shoot,  shoot !"  was  her  answer;  "  I  am  not  afraid  to  die  !  But 
remember,  while  there  is  a  Sevier  on  the  face  of  the  earth,  my  blood 
will  not  be  unavenged  !" 

He  dared  not — did  not  shoot.  The  leader  of  the  gang  told  the 
man  to  put  up  his  pistol,  for  "  such  a  woman  was  too  brave  to  die." 

Would  it  not  be  a  good  thing  to  make  the  study  of  the  biography 
of  such  heroines  as  Mrs.  Sevier  a  part  of  the  "  course  "  in  the  accom 
plishment  of  the  fastidious  young  ladies  of  to-day  ? 

A  peculiar  incident  is  connected  with  the  formidable  attack  upon 
Bryant's  station,  Kentucky,  made  by  six  hundred  savage  warriors, 
headed  by  the  infamous  renegade,  Simon  Girty.  Having  been  fore 
warned  of  the  contemplated  attack,  the  garrison  was  already  under 
arms  when  Girty  and  his  savage  band  appeared.  Supposing,  by  the 
preparations  made  to  receive  them,  that  their  actual  presence  in  the 
vicinity  was  known,  a  considerable  body  of  Indians  were  placed  in 
ambush  near  the  spring,  which  was  at  some  distance  from  the  fort, 
while  another  and  smaller  body,  was  ordered  to  take  position  in  full 
view  of  the  garrison,  with  the  hope  of  tempting  them  to  an  engage 
ment  outside  the  walls.  Had  this  stratagem  been  successful,  the  re 
mainder  of  the  forces  was  so  posted  as  to  be  able,  upon  the  with 
drawal  of  the  garrison,  to  storm  one  of  the  gates,  and  cut  off  their 
retreat  to  the  fort.  Unconscious  of  the  snare  which  had  been  laid 
for  them,  and  unaware  of  the*  full  strength  of  the  enemy,  the  garrison 
were  about- to  sally  out,  having  already  opened  one  of  the  gates  for 
this  purpose,  when  they  became  alarmed  by  a  sudden  firing  from 
an  opposite  direction,  and  hastily  falling  back,  they  closed  and  secured 
the  gates. 

One  difficulty  they  had,  however,  to  encounter — the  want  of  water. 
It  was  an  oppressive  day  in  the  middle  of  August,  and  the  want 
Was  soon  aggravated  to  an  intolerable  degree  by  the  heat  and  thirst 
consequent  upon  their  exertions.  To  perish  by  thirst  was  as  cruel  as 
to  die  by  the  rifle  and  tomahawk.  Under  these  circumstances,  a  plan 
was  proposed,  calculated  to  try  the  heroism  of  the  women  within 

317 


62  TALES    AND    TRADITIONS. 

the  fort.  Acting  on  the  belief  that,  although  there  might  be  an  am 
bush  at  the  spring,  yet  the  Indians,  in  desiring  to  effect  the  capture 
of  the  fort  by  stratagem,  would  not  unmask  themselves  to  the  women, 
these  were  urged  to  go  in  a  body  to  the  spring,  and  each  of  them 
bring  up  a  bucket  full  of  water. 

They  would  hardly  have  been  human  had  they  not  quailed  a  little 
at  this  daring  proposition ;  but,  upon  listening  to  the  arguments  of 
the  men,  a  few  of  the  boldest  declared  their  readiness  to  brave  the 
danger,  and  the  younger  and  more  timid,  rallying  in  the  rear  of  the 
elderly  matrons,  they  all  marched  down  to  the  spring,  a  valiant  com 
pany,  each  dipping  her  bucket,  within  point  blank  shot  of  five 
hundred  Indian  warriors.  Not  a  shot  was  fired.  They  filled  their 
buckets  with  the  precious  water,  and  regained  the  shelter  of  the  fort 
in  safety.  How  their  blood  must  have  turned  cold,  as  they  reached 
the  dangerous  spring,  and  how  it  must  have  thrilled  and  tingled  in 
their  veins,  as  they  turned  their  backs  to  the  concealed  enemy,  un 
armed  and  perfectly  helpless  as  they  were  !  How  long  the  distance 
to  the  gate !  How  sweet  the  relief  when  their  buckets  of  crystal 
comfort  were  set  down  within  the  enclosure ! 

Had  this  thing  occurred  in  the  days  of  the  old  Roman  glory,  it 
would  have  won  immortality  for  the  maids  and  mothers  who  parti 
cipated  in  it. 

When  General  Greene  was  retreating  from  the  Catawaba,  an  inci 
dent  occurred  which  indicates  the  self-sacrificing  spirit  of  the  Ameri 
can  women.  On  the  line  of  his  retreat  he  stopped  at  a  house  for 
repose  and  refreshment.  He  had  ridden  all  day  in  a  severe  rain 
storm ;  he  was  wet,  fatigued,  and  he  was  oppressed  by  gloomy  fore 
bodings.  His  landlady  observed  his  despondency,  and,  upon  asking 
him  about  his  condition,  he  replied  that  he  was  tired,  hungry  and 
penniless.  Refreshments  were  provided  for  him,  and,  after  he  had 
partaken  of  them,  the  woman  drew  him  into  a  private  apartment, 
where  she  placed  in  his  hands  two  bags  of  specie,  saying : 

"  Take  these ;  I  can  do  without  them,  and  they  are  necessary  to 
you." 

Let  us  imagine  that  this  noble  act  cheered  the  saddened  heart  of 
the  General  in  the  hour  of  his  trouble. 

In  one  district,  during  the  war,  the  young  women,  at  harvest-time, 
318 


RELIEVING   THE   COURIER    OP   HIS   DISPATCHES.  63 

formed  themselves  into  a  company  of  reapers,  going  to  all  the  farms 
of  the  neighborhood,  and,  if  the  reply  to  the  question  "  Is  the  owner 
out  with  the  fighting  men  ?"  was  in  the  affirmative,  they  would  set 
to,  and  cut  and  garner  all  the  grain.  It  was  no  small  undertaking, 
as  five  or  six  weeks  of  unceasing  toil  were  necessary  to  complete 
their  rounds.  Similar  companies  were  formed  in  New  York  and  Long 
Island.  A  Whig  paper  of  July  25th,  1776,  says : 

"  The  most  respectable  ladies  set  the  example,  and  say  they  will 
take  the  farming  business  on  themselves,  so  long  as  the  rights  and 
liberties  of  their  country  require  the  presence  of  their  sons,  husbands 
and  lovers,  in  the  field." 

Pride  in  such  ancestors  is  an  ennobling  sentiment. 

During  the  seige  of  Augusta,  two  ladies,  Grace  and  Rachel  Martin, 
residing  in  the  ninety-sixth  district,  South  Carolina,  learning,  upon 
one  occasion,  that  a  courier,  under  the  protection  of  two  British  sol 
diers,  was  to  pass  their  residence,  bearing  important  dispatches,  re 
solved,  by  a  well-planned  stratagem,  to  surprise  the  party,  and  de 
prive  the  courier  of  the  papers.  Disguising  themselves  in  male  attire, 
and  provided  with  arms,  they  concealed  themselves  in  a  thicket  on 
the  roadside,  and  patiently  awaited  the  approach  of  the  enemy.  It 
was  twilight,  and  the  darkness  favored  their  plan.  They  had  not  re 
mained  long  in  their  concealment,  when  the  courier  and  the  escort 
made  their  appearance.  They  were  riding  carelessly  along,  when 
suddenly  two  figures  sprang  from  a  bushy  covert,  loudly  demanding 
the  dispatches,  and  at  the  same  time  presenting  their  pistols.  Bewil 
dered  and  alarmed,  the  surprised  party  yielded,  without  attempting 
resistance. 

The  ladies  then  placed  them  on  parole,  and,  hastening  home 
through  a  short  route  by  the  woods,  had  hardly  arrived  there,  and 
divested  themselves  of  their  male  attire,  when  the  same  trio  came 
riding  up  to  the  door,  requesting  accommodations.  The  mother  of 
the  heroines  admitted  them,  asking  why  they  had  returned,  after 
passing  her  house  but  a  short  time  before.  They  replied  by  exhibit 
ing  their  paroles,  and  stating  that  they  had  been  taken  prisoners  by 
"  two  rebels."  The  young  ladies,  unsuspected  by  their  guests,  rallied 
them  on  their  unfortunate  adventure,  asking  "  why  they  did  not  use 
their  arms  ?"  to  which  they  replied  that  they  were  fallen  upon  so 

319 


64  TALES    AND    TRADITIONS. 

sudden,  they  had  not  time.  During  their  stay,  they  were  as  severely 
overcome  by  the  malicious  wit  and  raillery  of  the  ladies,  as  they  had 
before  been  by  their  superior  bravery  and  cunning.  The  dispatches 
obtained  in  the  heroic  manner  described,  were  sent  to  General  Greene, 
and  proved  of  importance. 

These  ladies  should  have  had  the  rank  of  "  Sergeant,"  at  least, 
conferred  upon  them,  in  acknowledgment  of  their  braver}',  wit,  and 
the  good  service  rendered  ! 

In  the  commencement  of  the  American  Revolution,  when  one  of 
the  British  king's  thundering  proclamations  made  its  appearance,  the 
subject  was  mentioned  in  a  company  in  Philadelphia ;  a  member  of 
Congress,  who  was  present,  turning  to  Miss  Livingstone,  said  : 

"  Well,  Miss,  are  you  greatly  terrified  at  the  roaring  of  the  British 
lion  ?" 

"  Not  at  all,  sir,  for  I  have  learned  from  natural  history  that  that 
beast  roars  loudest  ichen  he  is  most  frightened  /"  was  her  quiet  reply. 
320 


I 


T  ^_L  E  S, 


TRADITIONS  AND  ROMANCE 


OF 


BORDER  AND  REVOLUTIONARY  TIMES. 


THE  CHIEFTAIN'S  APPEAL. 
THE  IMPLACABLE  GOVERNOR. 
Mrs.  SLOCUMB  AT  MOORE'S  CREEK, 
BRADY'S  LEAP. 


YORK : 

BEADLE  AND  COMPANY,  PUBLISHERS, 

118  WILLIAM    STREET. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  Year  1864, 

by  BEADLK  AND  COMPANY,  in  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United 
States  for  the  Southern  District  of  New  York. 

• 

(T.  6.) 


THE 


CHIEFTAIN'S   APPEAL. 


SULLIVAN'S  campaign  into  the  Indian  country,  in  the  fall  of  1779, 
realized  none  of  the  anticipations  regarding  it;  for,  although  the 
severity  of  the  ensuing  winter,  and  the  privations  they  suffered  from 
the  destruction  of  their  honies  and  their  crops,  kept  the  Indians  from 
making  any  predatory  excursions  upon  the  settlements,  yet,  on  the 
opening  of  spring,  they  swept^  over  the  country  in  clouds,  burning 
with  revenge,  and  breathing  vengeance  against  the  pale-faces. 

Early  in  April,  a  party  of  forty  or  fifty  Indians  and  Tories,  under 
the  command  of  Captain  Brandt,  the  Mohawk  chief,  made  an  incur 
sion  against  Harpersfield,  which  they  surprised  and  destroyed.  Most 
of  the  inhabitants,  however,  had,  owing  to  their  exposed  situation, 
left  the  place,  and  nineteen  prisoners  and  a  small  amount  of  plunder 
was  all  that  graced  their  triumph.  On  his  way  from  Niagara,  Brandt 
had  detached  a  party  of  eleven  Indians,  under  a  young  chief  called 
Cheyendowah,  to  attack  the  settlement  at  Minisink,  and  bring  in 
some  prisoners.  This  was  successfully  accomplished,  and  five  of  its 
male  inhabitants  were  led  captive  into  the  wilderness,  as  far  as  Tioga 
Point.  Here,  however,  they  rose  upon  their  captors  while  asleep, 
and  in  a,  few  moments  nine  of  them  lay  in  the  agonies  of  death,  while 
the  other  two  fled,  one  being  mortally  wounded.  At  the  time  that 
Harpersfield  was  destroyed,  a  party  of  fourteen  militiamen,  under 
command  of  Captain  Alexander  Harper,  were  in  the  woods  making 
maple-sugar  for  the  garrison  at  Old  Schoharie.  Not  dreaming  of  the 
proximity  of  an  enemy,  they  were  attacked  by  the  party  under 
Brandt,  and  two  of  their  number  shot  down  before  they  could  seize 
their  arms ;  and  when  they  attempted  to  reach  them,  they  found 
themselves  completely  cut  off  and  surrounded.  Nothing  remained, 

325 


6  TALES    AND    TRADITIONS. 

therefore,  but  to  surrender.  The  Tories  composing  a  part  of  Brandt's 
party,  were  opposed  to  taking  prisoners,  and  wished  to  kill  them  at 
once,  that  they  might  not  be  an  incumbrance  at  the  attack  of  the 
Schoharie  Fort,  which  was  one  object  of  the  expedition.  A  frightful 
massacre  would  have  ensued,  without  doubt,  had  not  Brandt's  fore 
thought  prevented  it.  He  had  raised  his  tomahawk  to  strike  Captain 
Harper,  which  would  have  been  the  signal  for  the  death  of  the  others, 
when,  thinking  he  might  get  valuable  information  from  him,  he 
lowered  his  weapon,  and,  looking  the  other  sternly  in  the  eye,  he 
asked  :  "  How  many  regular  troops  are  there  in  the  fort  ?"  Harper 
saw  the  object  of  the  chief,  and,  without  any  hesitation  or  prevarica 
tion,  told  him  that  three  hundred  Continentals  had  arrived  but  a  few 
days  before  to  garrison  the  forts.  This  was  not  true,  but  the  manner 
in  which  Harper  told  it  imposed  upon 'the  chief,  who,  by  the  way, 
had  been  a  schoolmate  of  his,  and,  although  the  circumstance  discon 
certed  his  plans,  yet  he  was  induced  to  believe  him.  One  of  Harper's 
men,  fearing  that  the  Indians  would  put  them  all  to  death  if  they 
should  discover  the  fraud,  informed  the  chief  of  the  true  state  of  the 
case ;  but  he,  thinking  it  a  ruse  to  lead  him  into  danger,  and  thus 
facilitate  the  escape  of  the  prisoners,  put  no  faith  in  his  story,  but,  on 
the  contrary,  was  the  more  convinced  of  Harper's  truthfulness.  A 
conference  was  held  between  Brandt  and  his  subordinate  chiefs  in 
regard  to  the  disposal  of  the  prisoners.  The  former  was  in  favor  of 
taking  them  to  Niagara,  but  the  latter,  disappointed  at  the  failure  of 
the  main  part  of  their  enterprise,  and  thirsting  for  blood,  were  for 
massacreing  them  at  once.  During  the  controversy,  the  prisoners, 
bound  hand  and  foot,  were  thrust  into  a  pen  of  logs,  where  they  were 
kept  under  guard  of  the  Tories  and  their  leader,  an  infamous  wretch 
by  the  name  of  Becraft.  The  pen  was  near  enough  to  the  council  to 
hear  what  was  going  on,  and  Harper  understood  enough  of  the 
Indian  language  to  catch  the  import  of  their  "  talk."  Becraft  took 
pains,  too,  to  inform  them  of  the  wishes  of  the  majority  of  the 
Indians,  and  in  abusive  language  told  them  that  they  would  "  all  be 
in  hell  before  morning."  The  influence  of  Brandt — at  all  times 
powerful — enabled  him  to  prevent  bloodshed,  and  the  others  were 
induced  to  forego  their  bloodthirsty  desires,  for  the  present,  at  least. 
In  the  morning,  Harper  was  again  brought  before  tke  chief  and 
320 


TIIE    PRISONERS    IN    PERIL.  7 

interrogated.  With  great  presence  of  mind  he  reasserted  his  story, 
and,  although  the  other  eyed  him  with  the  most  searching  gaze,  he 
betrayed  no  evidence  of  indecision ;  and  at  length  the  chief,  con 
vinced,  apparently,  of  the  truth,  gave  the  order  to  commence  their 
march  for  Niagara.  The  prisoners  were  not  allowed  to  reach  their 
destination,  without  passing  through  fearful  ordeals.  One  day  they 
stopped  at  a  mill  kept  by  a  Tory,  who,  with  both  of  his  daughters, 
counseled  Brandt  to  destroy  "  the  infernal  Whigs."  This  coinciding 
with  the  desires  of  the  Tories  and  a  majority  of  the  Indians,  the 
chief  found  it  difficult  to  restrain  them,  and  prevent  the  sacrifice.  On 
another  occasion  they  met  a  loyalist,  who  was  well  acquainted  with 
Brandt  and  Harper,  who  told  the  former  that  he  had  been  deceived — 
that  there  were  no  troops  at  Schoharie.  This  led  to  another  search 
ing  inquiry,  but  Harper  persisted  in  his  story  with  so  much  apparent 
candor  as  again  to  elude  detection.  But  when  the  party  reached  the 
Chemung  River,  they  had  to  pass  a  still  more  fearful  trial.  On 
reaching  this  point,  Brandt  and  his  warriors  raised  a  whoop,  as  is 
customary  with  the  Indians  when  they  have  prisoners  —  it  was 
answered  by  a  single  death-yell !  In  a  few  moments  a  single  Indian 
made  his  appearance,  who  proved  to  be  the  young  chief  Cheyendo- 
wah.  His  story  was  soon  told.  Of  the  eleven  who  started  for  the 
Minisink  settlement,  he  alone  was  left  so  tell  the  tale  of  their  mas 
sacre  at  the  hands  of  their  prisoners.  The  others  had  gathered  about 
him,  excited  listeners  to  the  melancholy  narrative,  and  the  effect  of 
the  recital  upon  these  already  implacable  warriors  was  fearful  in  the 
extreme.  "  Revenge  !"  seemed  to  leap  from  every  tongue,  and  their 
faces  were  wrought  into  an  expression  of  the  fiercest  determination 
to  immolate  the  unhappy  prisoners  on  the  spot.  Every  hand  sought 
a  weapon  simultaneously,  and  the  glittering  tomahawk  and  keener 
scaiping-knife  leaped  into  the  air,  while  their  eyes  glared  ferociously 
upon  Harper  and  his  companions,  who,  conscious  that  their  fate  was 
inevitable,  awaited  it  with  what  composure  they  could  command. 
With  one  accord,  the  savages  rushed  in  a  tumultuous  throng,  with 
uplifted  weapons,  upon  their  victims.  Brandt  had  no  power  to 
control  the  storm,  and  did  not  attempt  it.  As  well  might  he  attempt 
to  stay  the  whirlwind  in  its  fury,  or  beat  back  the  mountain  torrent 
in  its  coarse ;  the  doom  of  the  white  men  was  apparently  sealed. 

32? 


8  TALES   AND    TRADITIONS. 

It  was  to  the  magnanimity  of  one  from  whom  they  could  least 
anticipate  such  forbearance,  that  they  were  indebted  for  their  lives. 
Rushing  between  the  infuriated  warriors  and  their  anticipated  prey, 
the  young  chief  Cheyendowah  waved  back  the  crowd  with  an  impe 
rious  gesture  which  commanded  attention.  When  silence  was 
restored,  he  surprised  his  auditors  by  an  urgent  appeal  in  behalf  t)f 
the  prisoners.  "  It  was  not  they,"  he  said,  "  who  had  killed  their 
brethren,  and  to  take  the  lives  of  innocent  men  would  not  punish  the 
guilty.  The  Great  Spirit  would  be  angry  with  them  if  they  should 
do  this  wicked  thing."  Pointing  upward,  in  words  of  majestic  elo 
quence,  he  told  them  that  "  Manitou  was  looking  upon  them,  and 
would  send  his  thunders  to  destroy  their  families,  their  homes,  and 
themselves,  if  they  sacrificed  the  white  men  in  their  vengeance." 
He  told  them  it  was  cowardly  to  kill  •  men  who  could  not  defend 
themselves,  and  none  but  squaws  would  take  such  an  advantage. 
Appealing  thus  alternately  to  their  fears,  their  humanity,  and  their 
superstition,  he  wrought  upon  their  better  nature,  and  was  successful 
in  inducing  them  to  forego  their  anticipated  vengeance.  One  by  one 
their  weapons  were  returned  to  their  accustomed  places,  and  with 
subdued  and  less  excited  feelings,  they  recommenced  their  onward 
march  to  Niagara,  which  they  reached  at  length ;  not,  however, 
without  the  severest  suffering  by  the  way. 

The  eloquence  of  the  red-man  is  proverbial.  Many  a  time  has 
the  captive  trembled  when  it  has  been  exercised  against  him ;  and 
thrilled  with  joy,  when  it  was  exerted  in  his  behalf.  In  the  swift 
future,  when  all  traces  of  his  existence,  who  was  once  the  master  of 
this  mighty  continent,  is  swept  away,  and  our  children's  children 
read  of  him,  as  an  ancient  and  perished  myth,  the  records  of  his 
eloquence  shall  be  left  alive.  One  of  the  best  specimens  of  Indian 
rhetoric,  is  the  speech  of  Tecumseh,  at  the  grand  council  of  the 
Creeks.  One,  who  was  present,  and  heard  it  as  it  fell  from  his 
lips,  General  Dale,  says : 

"  I  have  heard  many  great  orators,  but  I  never  saw  one  with  the 
yocal  powers  of  Tecumseh,  or  the  same  command  of  the  muscles  of 
the  face.  Had  I  been  deaf,  the  play  of  his  countenance  would  have 
told  me  what  he  said.  Its  effect  on  that  wild,  untutored,  super 
stitious,  and  warlike  assemblage,  may  be  conceived :  not  a  word  was 
328 


TECUMSEH'S  SPEECH.  9 

said,  but  stern  warriors,  the  '  stoics  of  the  wood,'  shook  with  emotion, 
and  a  thousand  tomahawks  were  brandished  in  the  air.  Even  the 
big  warrior,  who  had  been  true  to  the  whites,  and  remained  faithful 
during  the  war,  was,  for  the  moment,  visibly  affected,  and  more  than 
once  I  saw  his  huge  hand  clutch,  spasmodically  the  handle  of  his 
knife." 

But,  to  the  speech  : 

"  In  defiance  of  the  white  warriors  of  Ohio  and  Kentucky,  I  have 
traveled  through  their  settlements,  once  our  favorite  hunting-grounds. 
No  war-whoop  was  sounded,  but  there  is  blood  upon  our  knives 
The  pale-faces  felt  the  blow,  but  knew  not  whence  it  came. 

"  Accursed  be  the  race  that  has  seized  on  our  country  and  made 
women  of  our  warriors.  Our  fathers,  from  their  tombs,  reproach  us 
as  slaves  and  cowards.  I  hear  them  now  in  the  wailing  winds. 

"  The  Muscogee  was  once  a  mighty  people.  The  Georgians 
trembled  at  your  war-whoop,  and  the  maidens  of  my  tribe,  on  the 
distant  lakes,  sung  the  prowess  of  your  warriors,  and  sighed  for  their 
embraces. 

"  Now,  your  very  blood  is  white ;  your  tomahawks  have  no  edges ; 
your  bows  and  arrows  were  buried  with  your  fathers.  Oh  !  Musco- 
gees,  brethren  of  my  mother,  brush  from  your  eyelids  the  sleep  of 
slavery ;  once  more  strike  for  vengeance  —  once  more  for  your 
country.  The  spirits  of  the  mighty  dead  complain.  Their  tears 
drop  from  the  skies.  Let  the  white  man  perish. 

"  They  seize  your  land ;  they  corrupt  your  women  ;  they  trample 
on  the  ashes  of  your  dead.  Back,  whence  they  came,  upon  a  trail 
of  blood,  must  they  be  driven. 

"Back!  back,  ay,  into  the  great  waters  whose  accursed  waves 
brought  them  to  our  shores. 

"  Burn  their  dwellings  !  destroy  their  stock  !  Slay  their  wives  and 
children !  The  red-man  owns  the  country,  and  the  pale-face  must 
never  enjoy  it. 

"  War  !  war  !  War  forever  !  War  upon  the  living !  War  upon 
the  dead !  Dig  their  very  corpses  from  the  grave.  Our  country 
must  give  no  rest  to  a  white  man's  bones. 

"  This  is  the  will  of  the  Great  Spirit,  revealed  to  my  brother,  his 
familiar,  the  Prophet  of  the  Lakes.  He  sends  me  to  you. 

329 


10  TALES    AND    TRADITIONS. 

"  All  the  tribes  of  the  North  are  dancing  the  war-dance.  Two 
mighty  warriors  across  the  seas  will  send  us  arms. 

"  Tccumsch  will  soon  return  to  his  country.  My  prophets  shall 
tarry  with  you.  They  will  stand  between  you  and  the  bullets  of 
your  enemies.  When  the  white  men  approach  jrou,  the  yawning 
earth  shall  swallow  them  up. 

"  Soon  shall  you  see  my  arm  of  fire  stretched  athwart  the  sky.  I 
will  stamp  my  foot  at  Tippecanoe,  and  the  very  earth  shall  shake." 

It  appears  that  the  wily  orator  had  been  informed  by  the  British 
that  a  cornet  was  shortly  to  appear;  and  the  earthquake,  of  1811, 
had  commenced  as  he  came  through  Kentucky ;  so  that,  when  the 
arm  of  fire  was  actually  stretched  forth,  and  the  earth  did  shake 
under  old  Tippecanoe,  his  auditors  attributed  it  to  Tecumseh's  super 
natural  powers,  and  immediately  took  up  arms. 

We  think  the  speech  of  Weatherford,  one  of  the  Creek  war-chiefs, 
engaged  against  General  Jackson,  an  equally  fine  example  of  their 
oratory,  while  it  illustrates  the  remarkable  dignity  of  mind  which 
enabled  him  to  support  his  humiliating  position  with  such  grandeur. 
It  was  after  our  doughty  General  had  nearly  annihilated  the  tribes 
in  his  department,  the  Indians,  seeing  all  resistance  at  an  end,  came 
forward  and  made  their  submission;  Weatherford,  however,  and 
many  who  were  known  to  be  desperate,  still  holding  out. 

General  Jackson,  determined  to  test  the  fidelity  of  those  chiefs 
who  had  already  submitted,  ordered  them  to  deliver,  without  delay, 
Weatherford,  bound,  into  his  hands,  to  be  dealt  with  as  he  deserved. 
When  they  made  knowrn  to  the  sachem  what  was  required  of  them, 
his  high  spirit  would  not  submit  to  such  degradation ;  and,  to  hold 
them  harmless,  he  resolved  to  give  himself  up  without  compulsion. 

Accordingly,  he  proceeded  to  the  American  camp,  unknown,  until 
he  appeared  before  the  commanding  General,  to  whose  presence, 
under  some  pretence,  he  gained  admission.  Jackson  was  greatly 
surprised  when  the  chief  said : 

"  I  am  Weatherford,  the  chief  who  commanded  at  the  capture  of 
Fort  Minims.  I  desire  peace  for  my  people,  and  have  come  to 
ask  it." 

The  General  had  doubtless  resolved  upon  his  execution,  when  he 
should  be  brought,  bound ;  but,  his  unexpected  appearance  in  this 
880 


GENERAL  JACKSON  AND  WEATHERFORD.  11 

manner,  saved  him ;  he  said  to  the  chief  that  he  was  astonished  at 
his  venturing  to  appear  in  his  presence,  as  he  was  not  ignorant  of 
the  warrior  having  been  at  Fort  Minims,  nor  of  his  inhuman  conduct 
there,  for  which  he  richly  deserved  to  die. 

"  I  ordered,"  continued  the  General,  "  that  you  should  be  brought 
to  me  bound ;  had  you  been  brought  as  I  ordered,  I  should  have 
known  how  to  treat  you." 

In  answer  to  this,  Wcatherford  replied : 

"  I  am  in  your  power ;  do  with  me  as  you  please ;  I  am  a  soldier. 
I  have  done  the  whites  all  the  harm  I  could.  I  have  fought  them, 
and  fought  them  bravely.  Had  I  an  army,  I  would  yet  fight — I 
would  contend  to  the  last ;  but,  I  have  none.  My  people  are  all 
gone.  I  can  only  weep  over  the  misfortunes  of  my  nation." 

Jaekson  was  of  too  audacious  a  nature  himself,  not  to  be  pleased 
with  this  fellow,  and  told  him  that  he  would  take  no  advantage  of 
his  present  situation;  that  he  might  yet  join  the  war-party,  and 
contend  against  the  Americans,  if  he  chose,  but  to  depend  upon  no 
quarter,  if  taken  ;  and  that  unconditional  submission  was  his,  and  his 
people's  only  safety.  Weatherford  rejoined,  in  a  tone  both  dignified 
and  indignant : 

"  You  can  safely  address  me  in  such  terms,  now.  There  was  a 
time  when  I  could  have  answered — there  was  a  time  when  I  had  a 
choice — I  have  none  now.  I  have  not  even  a  hope.  I  could  once 
animate  my  warriors  to  the  battle — but  I  can  not  animate  the  dead. 
My  warriors  can  no  longer  hear  my  voice.  Their  bones  are  at 
Talladega,  Tallashatches,  Emucklaw,  and  Tohopeka.  I  have  not 
surrendered  myself  without  thought.  While  there  was  a  single 
chance  of  success,  I  never  left  my  post  nor  supplicated  peace.  But 
my  people  are  gone;  and  I  now  ask  it,  for  my  nation,  not  for 
myself.  I  look  back  with  deep  sorrow,  and  wish  to  avert  still 
greater  calamities.  If  I  had  been  left  to  contend  with  the  Georgian 
army,  I  would  have  raised  my  corn  on  one  bank  of  the  river  and 
fought  them  on  the  other.  But  your  people  have  destroyed  my 
nation.  You  are  a  brave  man.  I  rely  on  your  generosity.  You 
will  exact  no  terms  of  a  conquered  people,  but  such  as  they  should 
accede  to.  Whatever  they  may  be,  it  would  now  be  madness  and 
folly  to  oppose  them.  If  they  are  opposed,  you  will  find  me  among 

331 


12  TALES    AND    TRADITIONS. 

the  sternest  enforcers  of  obedience.  Those,  who  would  still  hold  out, 
can  be  influenced  only  by  a  mean  spirit  of  revenge.  To  this,  they 
must  not,  and  shall  not,  sacrifice  the  last  remnant  of  their  country. 
You  have  told  our  nation  where  we  might  go  and  be  safe.  This,  is 
good  talk,  and  they  ought  to  listen  to  it.  They  shall  listen  to  it." 

Weatherford  is  described  as  having  possessed  a  noble  person  and 
a  brilliant  intellect.  After  peace  was  declared,  he  settled  amid  the 
whites,  and  General  Dale,  who  had  fought  against  him  often,  had  the 
pleasure  of  standing  as  groomsman  at  his  wedding. 


THE  IMPLACABLE  GOVERNOR. 

WHEN  the  infamous  Tryon  succeeded  Arthur  Dobbs,  as  Colonial 
Governor  of  North  Carolina,  in  1766,  he  found  the  inhabitants  of  the 
upper  part  of  the  State  in  the  highest  state  of  excitement — almost  in 
open  rebellion — on  account  of  the  passage  of  the  Stamp  Act,  which, 
to  them,  was  like  piling  Pclion  upon  Ossa,  for  they  had  suffered  for 
years  from  the  rapacity  of  public  officers,  the  oppression  of  the  courts, 
and  exorbitant  taxes  levied  to  support  a  venal  government.  They 
had  petitioned  the  Governor  and  Council  for  a  redress  of  grievances, 
until  they  found  that  each  petition  was  followed  by  increased  extor 
tion — until  their  situation  became  so  oppressive,  that  they  resolved 
to  take  matters  into  their  own  hands.  A  solemn  league  was  there 
upon  formed,  called  the  "  REGULATION,"  and  the  members  of  it 
"  Regulators"  The  leader  of  this  movement  was  Herman  Husband, 
a  quaker,  a  man  of  strong  mind  and  great  influence.  These  Regu 
lators  resolved  to  pay  no  more  taxes,  unless  satisfied  of  their  legality  ; 
to  pay  no  more  fees  than  the  strict  letter  of  the  law  allowed ;  to 
select  the  proper  men  to  represent  them,  and  to  petition  for  redress 
until  their  object — a  retrenchment  of  the  exorbitant  expenditure  of 
the  Government,  and  the  consequent  high  rate  of  taxes  —  was 
obtained.  The  exasperated  feelings  of  the  people  were  somewhat 
calmed  by  the  repeal  of  the  odious  Stamp  Act;  but  soon  after 
that  event,  which  had  quieted  and  put  to  rest  the  stormy,  riotous 
332 


TRYON   AND    THE    REGULATORS.  13 

assemblies  of  the  "  Sons  of  Liberty,"  as  the  Regulators  were  sometimes 
called,  Governor  Tryon  succeeded  in  obtaining,  first,  an  appropriation 
of  twenty-five  thousand  dollars  to  erect  a  gubernatorial  palace, 
"  suitable  for  the  residence  of  a  Colonial  Governor,"  and  a  further 
sum  of  fifty  thousand  dollars  to  complete  the  same.  This,  together 
with  the  expense  of  running  the  boundary  line  between  the  State 
and  the  Cherokee  nation,  which  was  incurred  by  the  vanity  of  the 
Governor  in  calling  out  the  militia,  and  marching  at  their  head  into 
the  Cherokee  country,  with  the  ostensible  object  of  protecting  the 
surveyors',  and  that,  too,  in  time  of  peace,  had  the  effect  to  excite  the 
indignation  of  the  Regulators,  and  they  determined  to  resist  the 
imposition  of  the  tax  for  these  objects.  Tryon,  observing  the 
threatening  storm,  sent  a  proclamation  by  his  Secretary,  David 
Edwards,  and  a  lawyer  named  Edmund  Fanning,  to  be  read  and 
enforced  among  the  people.  Fanning  was  a  man  who  was  detested 
by  the  Regulators,  for  his  extortions ;  but  lie  managed  to  cajole  them 
into  the  belief  that  justice  was  about  to  be  done  them,  and  they 
agreed  to  meet  him,  to  heal  all  difficulties  and  settle  the  existing 
differences.  While  waiting  the  time  of  meeting,  however,  they  were 
astonished  and  highly  exasperated  by  the  arrest  of  Husband  and  a 
number  of  friends,  who  were  thrown  into  jail  by  Fanning' s  orders. 
A  rising  of  the  people  followed,  and  a  large  body  of  Regulators 
marched  to  Hillsborough  to  release  the  prisoners.  They  were 
induced,  however,  by  the  solemn  assurance  of  Edwards,  that  their 
grievances  should  be  redressed,  to  retire  without  committing  any 
overt  act.  From  this  time  forward,  the  temporizing  policy  of  the 
Governor,  and  the  rankling  hatred  of  the  Regulators,  caused  frequent 
and  serious  outbreaks,  until  the  former,  determined  to  crush  the 
spirit  of  disaffection,  collected  the  militia,  and  marched  into  the 
disaffected  district.  He  was  met  by  a  large  body  of  the  Regulators, 
and  a  serious  battle  was  fought,  in  which  nine  of  the  Regulators  and 
twenty-seven  of  the  militia  were  killed,  and  a  great  number  on  both 
sides  wounded.  The  Regulators  had  no  acknowledged  leader,  and 
all  was  confusion  after  the  first  fire  from  the  militia,  every  man 
fighting  on  his  own  account,  and  in  his  own  way.  The  result  was 
a  victory  for  the  Governor,  who  took  a  number  of  prisoners,  upon 
whom  he  vented  the  implacable  revenge  which  was  as  a  consuming 

333 


li  TALES    AND    TRADITIONS. 

fire  within  him.  His  conduct  was  more  like  that  of  a  small-minded, 
vain,  and  vindictive  man,  than  that  of  a  Royal  Governor. 

Among  others  whom  fortune  had  thrown  into  his  hands,  was 
Captain  Messer,  one  of  the  most  influential  of  the  Regulators,  and 
the  father  of  an  interesting  family.  Tryon  could  not  wait  the  tardy 
course  of  trial  for  this  man,  but  sentenced  him  to  be  hung  the  day 
after  the  battle.  He  must  sate  his  desire  for  revenge  in  the  blood 
of  some  of  his  victims,  or  his  victory  would  be  incomplete.  Messer 
begged  to  see  his  family  before  he  died ;  but  this  boon  was  denied 
him,  and  he  was  told  to  prepare  for  death.  Information  of  his 
captivity,  however,  was  conveyed  to  his  wife  by  the  fugitives  from 
the  field,  and  she  repaired  at  once  to  the  spot,  with  her  eldest  boy,  a 
lad  ten  years  old,  to  comfort  him  in  his  confinement.  She  did  not 
know  that  he  had  been  condemned  to  die,  until  she  reached  the 
scene  of  the  late  encounter,  where  she  was  informed  of  it  by  seeing 
the  preparations  made  for  his  execution.  In  an  agony  of  mind 
which  threatened  to  unseat  her  reason,  she  flew  to  Tryon,  and 
besought  him  on  her  knees  to  spare  her  husband's  life.  Every 
argument  and  appeal  which  her  affection  could  command,  was  used 
in  vain ;  the  stony  heart  of  the  victorious  Governor  wras  not  to  be 
touched,  and  he  spurned  her  from  him  in  disdain,  telling  her  that 
her  husband  should  die,  though  the  King  should  intercede  in  his 
behalf.  The  poor  woman  fell  weeping  to  the  ground,  while  her  little 
son,  with  the  spirit  of  his  father  beaming  in  his  eyes,  endeavored  to 
console  her  by  assuring  her  that  Tryon  would  yet  relent.  While  this 
was  passing,  the  Captain  was  led  forth  to  die.  Mrs.  Messer,  on 
seeing  her  husband  in  the  hands  of  the  executioner,  uttered  a  shriek 
of  agony,  which  seemed  to  sever  the  cords  of  her  heart,  and  swooned 
away.  The  noble-hearted  boy  at  her  side,  instead  of  giving  way  to  grief, 
determined  to  make  another  appeal  to  Tryon,  who  stood  near  viewing 
the  proceedings.  Throwing  himself  at  the  Governor's  feet,  he  said : 

"  Sir,  hang  me,  and  let  my  father  live." 

"  Who  told  you  to  say  that  ?"  asked  Tryon. 

"  Nobody,"  was  the  reply. 

"  And  why  do  you  ask  it  V" 

"  Because,"  replied  the  lad,  "  if  you  hang  father,  my  mother  will 

die,  and  the  children  will  perish." 
334 


CAPTAIN    MESSEK    REPRIEVED.  15 

The  Governor's  heart  was  touched,  and  he  replied : 

"  Your  father  shall  not  be  hanged  to-day." 

The  execution  was  stayed;  while  the  noble  boy  went  to  his 
mother,  and  restored  her  to  consciousness  by  the  news. 

The  unfeeling  tyrant,  however,  annexed  a  condition  to  his  reprieve, 
which  was,  that  Messer  should  be  set  at  liberty  only  on  condition 
that  he  should  arrest  and  bring  before  him  the  person  of  Husband, 
who  had  fled  before  the  battle  commenced.  Reflecting  that  success 
might  attend  his  efforts,  and,  at  worst,  he  could  but  suffer  if  he  failed, 
he  consented,  while  his  wife  and  son  were  detained  as  hostages  for 
his  fidelity.  He  pursued  Husband  to  Virginia,  where  he  overtook 
him,  but  could  not  persuade  him  to  return,  and  was  obliged  to  sur 
render  himself  again  to  the  tender  mercies  of  his  captor.  He  was 
bound  in  chains  with  the  other  prisoners,  and  in  this  condition  was 
marched  through  the  various  towns  and  villages  on  the  route  toward 
Newborn.  At  Hillsborough,  a  court-martial  was  held,  and  twelve  of 
the  captive  Regulators  were  sentenced  to  be  hung.  Six  of  these 
were  reprieved,  and  the  others  suffered  death  on  the  scaffold.  Among 
the  latter  was  Captain  Messer,  who  met  his  fate  with  the  resignation 
of  one  who  felt  that  he  died  in  the  cause  of  liberty.  His  broken 
hearted  wife  returned  to  her  home,  now  rendered  desolate  by  her 
husband's  death ;  while  the  tyrannical  Governor  marched  in  triumph 
to  Newbern,  from  whence  he  was  soon  after  called  to  the  head  of 
colonial  affairs  in  New  York. 

The  execution  of  Colonel  Isaac  Hayne,  which  took  place  later  in 
the  history  of  the  Carolinas,  presents  a  still  more  touching  picture  of 
the  devotion  of  a  child  and  the  tyranny  of  a  British  minion.  After 
Charleston  had  fallen  into  the  hands  of  the  British,  many  of  the 
Whigs  of  South  Carolina  were  induced  to  take  the  protections  which 
were  offered  by  Lord  Cornw^allis.  They  were  led  to  this  step  by  the 
belief  that  in  the  South  the  cause  was  hopeless,  and  were  promised, 
by  virtue  of  these  protections,  to  be  allowed  to  remain  quietly  in  their 
homes  and  take  no  part  in  the  contest.  Their  surprise  was  great, 
when,  soon  after,  they  were  called  upon  to  take  up  arms  under  the 
British  commanders  and  against  their  countrymen.  Conceiving  that 
faith  had  been  broken  with  them,  and  their  promises  of  neutrality  no 
longer  binding,  they  tore  up  their  protections,  and  at  once  ranked 

035 


16  TALES   AND    TRADITIONS. 

themselves  under  the  Continental  leaders.  Among  those  was  Colonel 
Hayne,  a  man  of  unblemished  reputation,  fine  talents  and  lofty 
patriotism.  Indignant  at  the  course  pursued  by  the  British,  he  has 
tened  to  the  American  army,  and  began  to  take  active  part  in  the 
contest.  Unfortunately,  he  fell  into  the  enemy's  hands,  was  conveyed 
to  Charleston,  submitted,  by  order  of  Rawdon,  to  a  mock  trial,  and, 
to  the  horror  of  all,  was  condemned  to  death.  He  received  his 
sentence  with  calmness,  but  the  whole  country  was  horrified.  Both 
English  and  Americans  interceded  for  his  life,  and  the  ladies  of 
Charleston  immortalized  themselves  by  the  spirited  address  which 
they  framed  and  delivered  to  his  captors  in  his  behalf.  All  was  of 
no  avail.  The  cruel  heart  of  Rawdon  could  not  be  moved ;  not  even 
the  captive's  motherless  children,  with  bended  knees  and  tearful 
prayers,  could  move  his  obdurate  nature. 

Hayne's  eldest  child  was  a  boy  of  thirteen,  who  was  permitted  to 
remain  in  prison  with  him  up  to  the  time  of  his  execution.  This 
boy  was  actuated  by  an  affection  for  his  father  of  the  most  romantic 
earnestness  and  fervor.  Beholding  him  loaded  with  irons  and  con 
demned  to  die,  he  was  overwhelmed  with  consternation  and  sorrow  ; 
nothing  could  alleviate  his  distress.  In  vain  did  his  parent  endeavor 
to  console  him  by  reminding  him  that  this  unavailing  grief  only 
heightened  his  own  misery — that  he  was  only  to  leave  this  world  to 
be  admitted  into  a  better — that  it  was  glorious  to  die  for  liberty. 
The  boy  would  not  be  comforted. 

"  To-morrow,"  said  the  unhappy  father,  "  I  set  out  for  immortality. 
You  will  accompany  me  to  the  place  of  my  execution,  and  when  I 
am  dead,  take  my  body  and  buiy  it  beside  your  poor  mother." 

In  an  agony  of  grief  the  child  fell  weeping  on  his  father's  neck, 
crying : 
-    "  Oh,  my  father,  my  father,  I  die  with  you !" 

The  chains  which  bound  the  prisoner  prevented  his  returning  the 
embrace,  but  he  said,  in  reply : 

"  Live,  my  son — live  to  honor  God  by  a  good  life — live  to  take 
care  of  your  brothers  and  sisters." 

The  next  morning  the  son  walked  beside  his  father  to  the  place 
of  execution.  The  history  of  the  war  scarcely  affords  a  more  heart 
rending  incident.  There  was  not  a  citizen  of  Charleston  whose 


THE   EXECUTION    OF    COLONEL    ISAAC   HAYNE.  19 

bosom  did  not  swell  with  anguish  and  indignation.  There  was 
sorrow  in  every  countenance,  and  when  men  spoke  with  each  other, 
it  was  in  accents  of  horror 

When  the  two  came  within  sight  of  the  gallows,  the  parent 
strengthened  himself,  and  said  to  the  weeping  boy : 

"  Tom,  my  son,  show  yourself  a  man  !  That  tree  is  the  boundary 
of  my  life  and  all  my  life's  sorrow.  Beyond  that  the  wicked  ceaso 
from  troubling,  and  the  weary  are  at  rest.  Don't  lay  too  much  at 
heart  our  separation — it  will  be  short.  'Twas  but  lately  your  mother 
died ;  to-day  I  die ;  and  you,  though  young,  must  shortly  follow." 

"  Yes,  my  father,"  replied  the  broken-hearted  boy,  "  I  shall  soon 
follow  you ;  for,  indeed,  I  feel  that  I  can  not  live  long.1' 

And  this  melancholy  anticipation  was  fulfilled  in  a  manner  far 
more  dreadful  than  is  implied  in  the  mere  extinction  of  life  When 
his  father  was  torn  from  his  side,  his  tears  flowed  incessantly,  and 
his  bosom  was  convulsed  with  sobs ;  but  when  he  saw  that  beloved 
parent  in  the  hands  of  the  executioner,  the  halter  adjusted  to  his 
neck,  and  then  his  form  convulsively  struggling  in  the  air,  the  fount 
ain  of  his  tears  was  suddenly  stanched,  and  he  stood  transfixed  with 
horror.  He  never  wept  again.  When  all  was  over  he  was  led  from 
the  scene,  but  there  was  a  wildness  in  his  look,  a  pallor  in  his  cheek, 
which  alarmed  his  friends.  The  terrible  truth  was  soon  made  known. 
His  reason  had  fled  forever.  It  was  not  long  before  he  followed  his 
parents  to  the  grave,  but  his  death  was  even  sadder  than  his  father's. 
In  his  last  moments  he  often  called  the  beloved  name  in  accents  of 
such  anguish  that  the  sternest  hearted  wept  to  hear  him.  But  the 
merciful  all-Father  took  him  home  and  restored  him  forever  to  the 
side  of  that  parent,  the  shock  of  whose  rude  death  sundered  the 
tender  strings  of  a  child's  heart. 

Lord  Kawdon  should  have  been  proud  of  this  noble  feat.  He  was 
one  of  those  who 

"  Stand,  to  moTe  the  world,  on  a  child's  heart." 

The  outrageous  oppression  of  Governor  Tryon  and  Lord  Rawdon 
were  only  a  few  among  many  instances  of  the  spirit  shown  by 
Government  officials,  until  the  people  of  the  Colonies  were  driven 
to  that  universal  rebellion  which  resulted  in  the  establishment  of 
our  independence.  And  when  that  struggle  was  begun,  British 

339 


20  TALES   AND   TRADTTONS. 

arrogance  and  cruelty  asserted  itself,  in  her  officers  and  minions,  in 
those  equivocal  shapes  which  ought  to  make  British  history  blush 
with  shame  along  the  ensanguined  record.  It  has  been  truly  said 
that  a  wrong  begun  is  only  maintained  by  a  wrong  continued. 

The  first  contest  of  England  with  America  sprung  from  tyranny  ; 
she  was  the  aggressor,  the  offending  party :  and  it  seems  to  have 
been  a  moral  consequence,  that  a  war,  thus  unrighteous,  should  have 
been  characterized  by  a  violation  of  every  humane  and  honorable 
purpose.  The  extent  to  which  British  cruelty  was  carried  in  the 
memorable  contest  of  the  Revolution,  is  scarcely  appreciated  by  us. 
Nothing  equals  the  vindictive,  bloodthirsty  fury  which  characterized 
it  in  some  quarters  of  the  Union.  It  was  almost  a  war  of  extermina 
tion  in  the  South.  There,  lads  were  often  shot  down,  that  they 
might  not  live  to  be  full-grown  rebels,  and  mothers  murdered,  that 
they  might  bring  forth  no  more  enemies  to  the  king.  Among  the 
people  in  villages,  and  in  the  open  country,  existed  the  greatest 
suffering,  and  often  was  manifested  the  loftiest  patriotism  and  the 
grandest  fortitude.  With  such  ferocity  were  they  pursued  by  the 
British  soldiery,  that  their  only  retreat  became  the  army.  At  no 
moment  were  they  safe.  Neither  in  their  beds,  nor  by  their  fire 
sides,  nor  on  the  highways.  Daily  and  nightly  murders  frightened 
the  time  with  their  atrocities.  Reckless  marauders  traversed  the 
country  in  all  directions,  sparing  neither  sex,  age,  nor  infancy. 
Nightly,  the  red  flame  glared  on  the  horizon,  and  houseless  children 
hung  over  the  desecrated,  butchered  forms  of  their  parents. 

But  of  all  atrocities,  those  committed  in  the  prisons  and  prison- 
ships  of  New  York  were  most  execrable ;  there  is  nothing  in  history 
to  excel  the  barbarities  there  inflicted.  It  is  stated  that  nearly  twelve 
thousand  American  prisoners  "  suffered  death  by  their  inhuman,  cruel 
and  barbarous  usage  on  board  the  filthy  and  malignant  prison-ship, 
called  the  Jersey,  lying  in  New  York." 

The  scenes  enacted  within  the  prisons  almost  exceed  belief.  There 
were  several  prisons  in  the  city ;  but  the  most  terrible  of  them  all 
was  the  Provost  (now  the  Hall  of  Records),  which  was  under  the 
charge  of  Cunningham,  that  wretch,  the  like  of  whom  the  world  has 
not  many  times  produced.  He  had  a  love  for  inflicting  torture ;  it 
•was  his  passion,  his  besotted  appetite ;  he  seemed  to  live  upon  the 
340 


CUNNINGHAM'S  DYING  SPEECH  AND  CONFESSION.  21 

agony  of  human  beings ;  their  groans  were  his  music,  their  sufferings 
his  pastime.  He  took  an  eager  delight  in  murder.  He  stopped  the 
rations  of  the  prisoners  and  sold  them,  to  add  to  the  luxuries  of  his 
own  table,  while  his  victims  were  starving  to  death.  They  were 
crowded  into  rooms  where  there  was  not  space  to  lie  down,  with  no 
blankets  to  protect  them  from  the  cold,  to  which  the  unglazed  win 
dows  exposed  them,  while  they  were  suffering  from  fevers,  thirst, 
and  hunger.  In  the  summer,  epidemics  raged  among  them,  while 
they  were  denied  medicine  or  attendance,  and  compelled  to  breathe 
the  damp  and  putrid  air.  But,  hear  what  Cunningham  himself  says 
of  his  acts,  in  his  dying  speech  and  confession,  when  brought  to  the 
gallows,  in  London,  for  a  forgery  of  which  he  was  convicted : 

"  I  shudder  to  think  of  the  murders  I  have  been  accessory  to,  both 
with  and  without  orders  from  the  Government,  especially  in  New 
York,  during  which  time,  there  was  more  than  two  thousand  prison 
ers  starved  in  the  different  prisons,  by  stopping  their  rations,  which 
I  sold.  There  were  also  two  hundred  and  seventy-five  American 
prisoners  and  obnoxious  persons  executed,  out  of  all  which  number, 
there  was  only  about  a  dozen  public  executions,  which  consisted 
chiefly  of  British  and  Hessian  deserters.  The  mode  for  private  exe 
cutions,  was  this :  a  guard  was  despatched  from  the  Provost,  about 
half-past  twelve,  at  night,  to  the  barrack,  and  the  neighborhood  of 
the  upper  barracks,  to  order  the  people  to  close  their  window-shutters 
and  put  out  their  lights,  forbidding  them,  at  the  same  time,  to  look 
out,  on  pain  of  death ;  after  which,  the  unfortunate  victims  were  con 
ducted,  gagged,  just  behind  the  upper  barracks,  and  hung  without 
ceremony,  and  there  buried  by  the  Black  Pioneer  of  the  Provost." 

These  murders  were  common,  nightly  pastime  of  this  monster. 

The  saddest  of  the  tragedies  in  which  Cunningham  bore  his 
ignominious  part,  was  the  execution  of  that  glorious  young  martyr, 
whose  name  shall  glow  brighter  and  brighter  on  the  record  of  his 
country's  heroes,  as  the  ages  roll  away. 

The  impartial  reader  will  question  the  justice  of  history,  which 
has  done  so  much  for  the  memory  of  Andre,  and  left  that  of  Hale  in 
comparative  oblivion.  And  yet  we  can  discover  but  little  difference 
in  their  cases.  Both  were  possessors  of  genius  and  taste,  both  were 
endowed  with  excellent  qualities  and  attainments,  and  both  were 

341.  ' 


22  TALKS    AND    TRADITIONS. 

impelled  by  a  desire  to  serve  the  cause  they  respectively  espoused, 
and  both  suffered  a  similar  death,  but  under  vastly  different  circum 
stances.  And  yet  a  magnificiently  sculptured  monument  in  West 
minster  Abbey,  perpetuates  the  name  of  the  English  officer,  while 
none  know  where  sleep  the  ashes  of  Hale,  and  neither  stone  nor 
epitaph  tells  us  of  the  services  rendered  by  him ;  while  the  first  is 
honored  in  every  quarter  where  the  Enr  iish  language  is  spoken,  the 
name  of  the  latter  is  unknown  to  many  of  his  countrymen,  "  There 
is  something  more  than  natural  hi  this,  if  philosophy  could  find  it 
out."* 

Nathan  Hale  was  not  twenty  years  of  age,  when  the  first  gun  of 
the  revolution  broke  upon  the  ears  of  the  colonists.  The  patriotic 
cause  at  once  aroused  his  enthusiastic  love  for  liberty  and  justice, 
and  without  pausing  for  a  moment  to  consider  the  prudence  of  such 
a  step,  his  ardent  nature  prompted  him  at  once,  to  throw  himself 
into  the  ranks  of  his  country's  defenders.  Distinguished  as  a  scholar, 
and  respected,  by  all  who  knew  him,  for  his  brilliant  talents,  he  was 
at  once  tendered  a  Captain's  commission  in  the  light  infantry.  He 
served  in  the  regiment  commanded  by  Colonel  .Knowlton,  and 
was  with  the  army  in  its  retreat  after  the  disastrous  battle  of  Long 
Island. 

After  the  army  had  retreated  from  New  York,  and  while  it  was 
posted  on  the  Hights  of  Harlem,  the  Commander-in-Chief  earnestly 
desired  to  be  made  acquainted  -with  the  force  and  contemplated 
movements  of  the  enemy,  and  for  this  purpose,  applied  to  Colonel 
Knowlton  to  select  some  individual  capable  of  performing  the 
hazardous  and  delicate  service.  Knowlton  applied  to  Hale,  who,  on 
becoming  acquainted  with  the  wishes  of  Washington,  immediately 
volunteered  his  services.  He  stated  that  his  object  in  joining  the 
army,  was  not  merely  for  fame,  but  to  serve  the  country ;  that  as 
yet,  no  opportunity  had  offered  for  him  to  render  any  signal  aid  to 
her  cause,  and  when  a  duty  so  imperative  and  so  important  as  this 
was  demanded  of  him,  he  was  ready  to  sacrifice  not  only  life,  but  all 
hope  of  glory,  and  to  suffer  the  ignomy  which  its  failure  would  cast 
upon  his  name.  His  friends  endeavored  to  dissuade  him  from  the 

•  About  ten  years  sinca,  the  ladies  of  Windham  and  Tolland  Counties,  Conn., 
caused  a  handsome  monum&nt  to  be  erected  to  the  memory  of  the  youug  martyr 


CAPTUKE    OP   NATHAN   HALE.  23 

undertaking,  but  lofty  considerations  of  duty  impelled  him  to  the 
step. 

Having  disguised  himself  as  a  schoolmaster,  he  crossed  the  Sound 
at  Fairfield,  to  Huntingdon,  and  proceeded  thence  to  Brooklyn.  This 
was  in  September,  1776.  When  he  arrived  at  Brooklyn,  the  enemy 
had  already  taken  possession  of  New  York.  He  crossed  over  to  the 
city,  his  disguise  unsuspected,  and  pursued  the  objects  of  his  mission. 
He  examined  all  their  fortifications  with  care,  and  obtained  every 
information  relative  to  the  number  of  the  enemy,  their  intentions,  etc. 
Having  accomplished  all  that  he  could,  he  left  the  city,  and  retraced 
his  steps  to  Huntingdon.  While  here,  waiting  for  a  boat  to  convey 
him  across  the  Sound,  his  apprehension  was  effected.  There  are 
great  discrepancies  in  the  various  accounts  which  are  given  of  his 
arrest,  but  all  agree  that  it  was  through  the  means  of  a  refugee 
cousin,  who  detected  his  disguise.  According  to  one  account,  while 
he  was  at  Huntingdon,  a  boat  came  to  the  shore,  which  he  at  first 
supposed  to  be  one  from  Connecticut,  but  which  proved  to  be  from 
an  English  vessel  tying  in  the  Sound.  He  incautiously  approached 
the  boat,  and  was  recognized  by  his  Tory  relative,  who  was  hi  the 
boat  at  the  time.  He  was  arrested,  and  sent  to  New  York. 

There  can  not  be  a  more  striking  proof  of  the  different  value  set 
upon  the  services  of  Andre  and  Hale  by  their  respective  nations, 
than  the  fact  afforded  by  the  different  manner  of  their  arrest.  There 
was  not  a  single  circumstance  connected  with  the  capture  of  Andre, 
but  what  is  known  to  every  reader  of  history,  but  in  the  case  of 
Hale,  who  stands  Andre's  equal  in  every  particular,  it  is  not  even 
known  with  certainty  how  he  was  apprehended.  We  have  a  few 
uncertain  legends  relative  to  it,  but  these  are  widely  different,  some 
making  him  arrested  on  the  Sound,  some  on  the  island,  and  others 
on  the  outskirts  of  the  city.  But  there  wras  one  circumstance  con 
nected  with  Hale's  capture,  which  should  enhance  our  sympathy  for 
him.  Andre  fell  into  the  American  hands  by  means  of  the  sagacity, 
watchfulness,  and  fidelity  of  our  own  soldiers  ;  but  Hale  was  betrayed 
by  the  base  perfidy  and  treason  of  a  renegade  relative.  And  what 
two  opposite  phases  of  human  nature  does  the  contrast  between  these 
two  incidents  afford !  In  the  first,  we  find  three  men,  three  poor 
men,  so  fixed  in  principle  and  determined  in  right,  that  the  most 

343 


24  TALES   AND    TRADITIONS. 

tempting  offers  —  offers  when  an  assent  would  have  given  them 
wealth,  ease,  and  luxury — were  refused.  Strong  honesty  overcame 
temptation,  and  they  were  content  to  struggle  on  in  poverty,  oblivion, 
and  privation,  with  unsullied  hearts,  rather  than  feast  and  riot  in 
luxury.  But  in  the  latter  incident,  we  find  one  of  the  most  execrable 
acts  recorded  in  history.  The  betrayal  of  Hale  by  his  relative,  con 
trasted  with  the  stern  integrity  of  Andre's  captors,  affords  a  most 
striking  picture. 

We  are  all  aware  of  what  followed  the  capture  of  Andre.  He  was 
tried  before  an  honorable  court,  and  while  strict  justice  demanded 
his  life,  the  necessity  was  deplored  by  his  judges,  and  his  fate  aroused 
in  every  heart  the  keenest  sympathy  and  the  deepest  sorrow.  But 
how  widely  different  was  the  unhappy  end  of  the  noble  Hale  !  He 
was  surrendered  to  the  incarnate  fiend,  Cunningham,  the  Provost- 
Marshal,  and  ordered  to  immediate  execution,  without  even  the 
formality  of  a  trial. 

The  twenty-first  of  September,  1776,  was  a  day  to  be  remembered 
in  New  York.  From  "Whitehall  to  Barclay  Street,  a  conflagration 
raged  along  both  sides  of  Broadway,  in  which,  four  hundred  and 
ninety-three  houses,  or  about  one-third  of  the  city,  was  laid  in  ashes. 
The  College  Green,  and  a  change  of  wind,  only  arrested  the  swift 
destruction.  On  that  day,  the  dignified,  harsh,  cold,  and  courtly 
Howe,  had  his  head-quarters  at  the  Beekman  House,  (now  standing 
at  the  corner  of  Fifty-first  Street  and  First  Avenue)  on  the  East 
River,  about  three  and  a  quarter  miles  from  the  Park.  The  confla 
gration,  checked,  but  not  subdued,  still  clouded  the  air,  when  a 
generous  youth,  of  high  intelligence,  kindly  manners,  and  noble 
character,  was  brought  into  the  presence  of  this  stern  dignitary. 
That  youth  was  charged  with  being  a  spy,  and  the  allegation  was 
substantiated  by  some  military  sketches  and  notes  found  on  his 
person.  In  this  court  of  last  resort,  Hale  dropped  all  disguises,  and 
at  once  proclaimed  himself  an  American  officer  and  a  spy.  He 
attempted  no  plea  of  extenuation ;  he  besought  no  pardoning  clem 
ency;  he  promised  no  transfer  of  allegiance.  He  waited  calmly, 
with  no  unmanly  fears,  the  too  evident  sentence  which  was  to  snap 
his  brittle  thread  of  life.  Howe  kept  him  not  long  waiting,  but  at 
once  wrote  a  brief  order,  giving  to  William  Cunningham,  Provost 
344 


CUNNINGHAM'S  INFAMOUS  CONDUCT.  25 

Marshal  of  the  Royal  army,  the  care  and  custody  of  the  body  of 
Nathan  Hale,  Captnin  in  the  rebel  army,  this  day  convicted  as  a  spy, 
and  directing  him  to  be  hung  by  the  neck  until  dead,  "  to-rnorrow 
morning  at  daybreak." 

Dare  we  allow  our  sad  and  sympathizing  fancies  to  follow  the 
young  hero  to  the  old  Provost,  where  one  night  only  remained  to 
him  «f  earth  ?  It  is  difficult  to  conceive  a  night  of  greater  distress, 
or  more  thronged  with  memories,  endurances,  and  anticipations. 
Never  was  prison  presided  over  by  a  more  insatiate  monster  than 
this  Cunningham.  All  the  surroundings  were  of  the  most  forbidding 
character.  The  coming  morning  was  to  conduct  the  prisoner, 
through  unspeakable  contumely,  to  the  portals  of  eternity.  He 
calmly  asked  that  his  hands  might  be  loosed,-  and  that  a  light  and 
writing  materials  might  be  supplied,  to  enable  him  to  write  to  his 
parents  and  friends.  Cunningham  denied  the  request !  Hale  asked 
for  the  use  of  a  Bible,  and  even  this  was  savagely  refused. 

Thank  God,  there  was  one  there  with  enough  of  the  heart  and 
feelings  of  a  man,  to  be  roused  to  energetic  remonstrance  by  such 
malignant  inhumanity.  The  Lieutenant  of  Hale's  guard  earnestly 
and  successfully  besought  that  these  requests  be  granted.  In  the 
silent  hours,  so  swiftly  bearing  him  on  to  the  verge  of  his  dear  and 
happy  life,  the  strong  soul  of  the  martyr  was  permitted  to  write,  for 
loved  eyes  its  parting  messages.  Doubtless,  one  of  these  was  to  the 
sweet  Alice  Adams,  the  maiden  to  whom  he  was  betrothed.  On 
came  the  swift  and  fatal  morning,  and  wTith  it  the  diabolical  Cun 
ningham,  eager  to  luxuriate  in  another's  woe.  Hale  handed  him  the 
letters  he  had  written ;  Cunningham  at  once  read  them,  and,  growing 
furious  at  their  high  spirit,  tore  them  to  pieces  before  tJie  writer's  eyes. 
He  afterward  gave,  as  his  reason, "  that  the  rebels  should  never  know 
they  had  a  man  who  could  die  with  such  firmness." 

Confronted  by  this  representative  of  His  Majesty,  cheered  by  no 
voice  of  friendship,  or  even  of  sympathy,  beset  by  the  emblems  and 
ministers  of  ignominious  death,  Hale  stood  on  the  fatal  spot.  His 
youthful  face  transfigured  with  the  calm  peace  of  a  triumphant 
martyr ;  a  life,  suffused  with  religious  sensibilities,  and  blooming 
with  holy  love,  then  and  there  culminated. 

The  ritual  of  disgrace  had  been  performed,  and  a  single  refinement 

345 


26  TALES    AND    TRADITIONS. 

of  malice,  was  all  that  even  Cunningham's  ingenuity  could  devise ; 
he  demanded  "  a  dying  speech  and  confession."  Humanity  had 
begun  to  assert  itself  in  the  crowd  of  curious  gazers,  for  pity  was 
swelling  up  in  many  hearts,  finding  expression  in  stifled  sobs.  Firm 
and  calm,  glowing  with  purification  and  self-sacrifice,  Hale  seemed  to 
gather  up  his  soul  out  of  his  body,  as,  with  solemn  emphasis,  he 
gave  answer  to  this  last  demand  of  malignity : 

"  /  only  regret  that  I  have  but  one  life  to  lose  for  my  country" 

Why  have  not  we  a  sky-piercing  monument,  wherein  is  set  a  tablet 
of  solid  silver,  whereon  those  words  are  printed  in  letters  of  pure 
gold? 

Honest  Tunis  Bogart,  a  witness  of  Hale's  execution,  said : 

"  I  have  never  been  able  to  efface  the  scene  of  horror  from  my 
mind — it  rises  up  to  my  imagination  always."  Ashar  Wright,  who 
was  Hale's  personal  attendant,  was  so  completely  overwhelmed  by 
his  fate,  that  his  understanding  reeled  from  its  throne,  never  to  be 
fully  reinstated. 

There  was  such  lamentation  among  relatives,  friends,  and  brother 
officers,  when  his  death  was  learned,  as  betokened  how  he  had 
endeared  himself  to  all.  His  memory  has  been  quietly  cherished  in 
many  hearts.  And  ever,  as  the  tide  of  time  rolls  on,  his  fame 
increases — his  star  sails  steadily  up  among  the  immortal  crowd  of 
illustrious  dead. 

A  certain  share  of  infamy  attaches  to  Howe,  on  account  of  the 
barbarities  of  Hale's  execution.  He  could  and  should  have  known 
that  Cunningham  was  a  devil,  unfit  for  any  earthly  trust.  He  should, 
too,  have  observed  the  due  formality  of  a  court-martial,  and  he  cer 
tainly  should  have  taken  care  to  have  had  the  sentence  executed^ 
with  decency.  Howe  is  deeply  blameworthy  for  his  lack  of  humanity, 
and  for  his  unrestrained  indulgence  of  such  monsters  as  the  Provost- 
Marshal.  He  stands  convicted  of  a  tolerance  of  demoniac  cruelty, 
not  only  in  this  case,  but  in  the  prison-ships,  and  his  general  admin 
istration.  There  is  something  even  more  damning  in  being  an 
ungenerous  enemy,  than  an  ungenerous  friend.  Let  the  .  disgrace 
which  it  fairly  won,  rest  forever  on  the  name  of  Howe. 

As  for  that  sweet  Alice  Adams,  to  whom  Nathan  Hale  was 
engaged,  the  events  of  a  long  life,  the  transformation  of  four  score 
346 


THE  BATTLE  OF  MOORE' S  CREEK.  27 

and  eight  years,  passed  over  her  head.  In  life's  extremity,  when 
shadows  came  and  went,  and  earth  was  receding  dimly,  the  first 
loved  name  was  the  last  word  on  her  lips.  Truth  and  love  came 
back  to  her  in  old  age  and  death ;  perhaps  she  saw  him  standing  on 
the  eternal  shores  awaiting  to  help  her  over — love,  life  and  youth  are 
immortal  there — and  calling  to  him,  she  passed  away. 


MRS.  SLOCUMB  AT  MOORE'S  CREEK. 

MARY  SLOCUMB  was  the  noble-hearted  wife  of  one  of  the  bravest 
sofdiers  of  the  Southern  army,  and  was  a  fair  specimen  of  the  heroic 
women  whose  influence  was  so  sensibly  felt  in  the  Carolinas  at  the 
period  when  the  Revolutionary  storm  was  delugicg  that  section  with 
all  the  horrors  of  civil  war.  Lieutenant  Slocumb,  "her  husband,  like 
many  others  whose  patriotism  would  not  allow  them  to  remain  at 
home  in  the  enjoyment  of  ease  and  comfort,  while  their  country 
called  for  the  exertion  of  her  sons  to  free  her  from  the  thraldom  of  a 
foreign  tyrant,  had  attached  himself  to  the  regiment  of  Colonel  Cas- 
well,  who,  at  the  period  of  which  we  write,  had  collected  his  friends 
and  the  yeomen  of  the  surrounding  country,  to  give  battle  to  Donald 
McDonald,  and  his  Highlanders  and  Tories,  then  on  their  way  to 
join  Sir  Henry  Clinton  on  Cape  Fear,  after  having  escaped  from 
Colonel  Moore  at  Cross  Creeks.  In  the  battle  of  Moore's  Creek, 
which  followed,  Lieutenant  Slocumb  and  his  detachment,  by  turning 
^the  flank  of  the  enemy,  secured  the  victory  to  the  patriots,  and  cap 
tured  a  large  portion  of  the  loyal  Highlanders,  among  whom  was  the 
brave  McDonald  himself.  It  was  a  hard  fought  and  bloody  battle, 
and  Slocumb,  in  after  years,  delighted  to  relate  the  incidents  of  the 
obstinately  contested  field,  among  which  none  was  so  interesting  as 
his  meeting  with  his  wife  on  his  return  from  the  pursuit  of  the 
defeated  Tories.  It  seems  that  on  the  night  after  the  departure  of 
her  husband  and  his  detachment,  Mrs.  Slocumb  had  dreamed  of 
seeing  her  husband's  body,  wrapped  in  his  military  cloak,  lying  upon 
ihe  battle-field,  surrounded  with  the  dead  and  dying.  So  strong  was 

347 


*o  TALES   AND    TRADITIONS. 

the  impression  upon  her  mind,  that  she  could  sleep  no  more,  and  she 
determined  to  go  to  him.  Telling  her  woman  to  look  after  her  child, 
and  merely  saying  that  she  could  not  sleep,  and  would  ride  down  the 
road,  she  went  to  the  stable,  saddled  her  mare — as  fleet  a  nag  as  ever 
traveled — and  in  a  few  moments  was  on  her  way  after  the  little 
army,  sixty  miles  distant.  By  the  time  she  had  ridden  some  ten 
miles,  the  night  air  had  cooled  her  feverish  excitement,  and  she  was 
tempted  to  turn  back,  but  the  thought  that  her  husband  might  be 
dead,  or  dying,  urged  her  on,  and  when  the  first  faint  tints  of  morn 
ing  illumined  the  cast,  she  was  thirty  miles  from  home.  At  sunrise, 
she  came  upon  a  group  of  women  and  children,  who  had  taken  their 
station  in  the  road  to  catch  any  tidings  that  might  pass  from  the 
battle-field.  -  Of  these  she  inquired  if  the  battle  had  been  fought,  but 
they  could  give  her  no  information,  and  she  rode  on,  following  the 
well-marked  trail  of  the  troops. 

About  eight  or  nine  o'clock  she  heard  a  sound  like  distant  thunder. 
She  stopped  to  listen ;  again  it  boomed  in  the  distance,  and  she  knew 
it  must  be  cannon.  The  battle  was  then  raging. 

"  What  a  fool !"  thought  she.  "  My  husband  could  not  be  dead 
last  night,  and  the  battle  only  fighting  now.  Still,  as  I  am  so  near, 
I  will  go  on  and  see  how  they  come  out." 

Every  step  now  brought  her  nearer  the  field,  and  she  soon  heard 
the  sound  of  the  musketry  and  shouting.  In  a  few  moments  she 
came  out  into  the  road  below  Moore's  Creek  bridge.  A  short  dis 
tance  from  the  road,  under  a  cluster  of  trees,  were  lying  perhaps 
twenty  men.  They  were  wounded. 

"  I  knew  the  spot — the  veiy  trees ;  and  the  position  of  the  men  I 
knew  as  if  I  had  seen  it  a  thousand  times.  I  had  seen  it  all  night  L 
I  saw  all  at  once ;  but  in  an  instant  my  whole  soul  was  centered  in 
one  spot ;  for  there,  wrapped  in  his  bloody  guard  cloak,  lay  the  body 
of  my  husband.  How  I  passed  the  few  yards  from  my  saddle  to  the 
spot  I  never  knew.  I  remember  uncovering  the  head,  and  seeing  a 
face  clothed  with  gore  from  a  dreadful  wound  across  the  temple.  I  put 
my  hand  on  the  bloody  face ;  'twas  warm,  and  an  unknown  voice 
begged  for  water." 

What  a  revulsion  !  It  was  not  her  husband,  then,  after  all  1  She 
brought  water,  gave  him  some  to  drink,  washed  his  face,  and 


AN    ANGEL    OF    MERCY.  29 

discovered  that  it  was  Frank  Cogdell.  He  soon  revived,  and  could 
speak. 

"  I  was  washing  the  wound  on  his  head.  Said  he  :  '  It  is  not  that ; 
it  is  that  hole  in  my  leg  that  is  killing  me.'  A  puddle  of  blood  was 
standing  on  the  ground  about  his  feet ;  I  took  his  knife,  cut  away  his 
trowsers  and  stocking,  and  found  the  blood  came  from  a  shot-hole, 
through  and  through  the  fleshy  part  of  his  leg." 

She  sought  for  some  healing  leaves,  bound  up  his  wounds,  and 
then  went  to  others,  whose  wounds  she  dressed,  and  while  engaged 
in  this  charitable  work,  Colonel  Caswell  came  up.  He  wras  surprised, 
of  course,  to  see  her,  and  was  about  to  pay  her  some  compliment, 
when  she  abruptly  asked  for  her  husband. 

"  He  is  where  he  ought  to  be,  madam,  in  pursuit  of  the  enemy. 
But,  pray,  how  came  you  here  ?" 

"  Oh,  I  thought,"  said  she,  "  you  would  need  nurses  as  well  as 
soldiers.  See  !  I  have  already  dressed  many  of  these  good  fellows ; 
and  here  is  one,"  going  to  Frank,  and  lifting  up  his  head  so  that  he 
could  drink  some  more  water,  "  would  have  died  before  any  of  you 
men  could  have  helped  him." 

Just  then  she  looked  up,  and  her  husband,  covered  with  blood  and 
dirt,  stood  before  her. 

"  Why,  Mary  !"  he  exclaimed,  "  what  are  you  doing  there  ?  Hug 
ging  Frank  Cogdell,  the  greatest  reprobate  in  the  army !" 

"  I  don't  care,"  she  cried, "  Frank  is  a  brave  fellow,  a  good  soldier, 
and  a  true  friend  to  Congress." 

"  True,  true !  every  word  of  it !"  said  Caswell ;  "  you  are  right, 
madam,"  with  the  lowest  possible  bow. 

"  I  would  not  tell  my  husband,"  says  she, "  what  brought  me  there. 
I  was  so  happy ;  and  so  were  all !  It  was  a  glorious  victory ;  I  came 
just  at  the  hight  of  the  enjoyment,  I  knew  my  husband  was  sur 
prised,  but  I  could  see  he  was  not  displeased  with  me.  It  was  night 
again  before  our  excitement  had  all  subsided.  Many  prisoners  were 
brought  in,  and  among  them  some  very  obnoxious ;  but  the  worst 
of  the  Tories  were  not  taken  prisoners.  They  were  for  the  most 
part  left  in  the  woods  and  swamps,  whenever  they  were  overtaken. 
I  begged  for  some  of  the  poor  prisoners,  and  Caswell  readily  told  me 
none  should  be  hurt,  but  such  as  had  been  guilty  of  murder  and 
349 


30  TALES    AND    TRADITIONS. 

house-burning.  In  the  middle  of  the  night,  I  again  mounted  my 
mare  and  started  for  home.  Caswell  and  my  husband  wanted  me 
to  stay  till  next  morning,  and  they  would  send  a  party  with  me ; 
but  no ;  I  wanted  to  see  my  child,  and  I  told  them  they  could  send 
no  party  who  could  keep  up  with  me.  What  a  happy  ride  I  had 
back !  and  with  what  joy  did  I  embrace  my  child  as  he  ran  to  meet 
me." 

Could  the  inventive  genius  of  the  most  able  writer  of  fiction  sug 
gest  a  more  thrilling  narrative  ?  Alas !  how  many  such  intensely 
interesting  incidents  are  buried  in  the  graves  of  those  noble  men  and 
women  who  sacrificed  everything  but  honor,  that  we,  their  children, 
might  live  free  and  independent. 

How  many  females  of  the  present  age  could  be  found  to  ride  a 
hundred  and  twenty-five  miles  in  less  than  forty  hours,  even  on  such 
an  errand? 

This  was  not  the  only  adventure  of  this  spirited  lady,  living,  as 
she  did,  in  the  midst  of  contending  armies,  and  entering  with  ardor, 
into  all  the  plans  and  hopes  of  her  husband. 

Another  couple,  living  at  the  North,  had  some  spirited  adventures, 
quite  worth  chronicling.  In  the  town  of  North  Castle,  Westchester 
County,  New  York,  resided,  during  the  War  for  Independence,  a 
young  married  couple,  wTho  were  both,  heart  and  soul,  enlisted  in 
the  patriotic  cause,  and  whose  best  services  were  devoted  to  their 
country.  Mr.  Fisher  was  an  eminent  and  active  member  of  a  partisan 
band,  under  Major  Paulding,  whose  confidence  and  esteem  he  always 
enjoyed  to  an  eminent  degree,  and  who  by  his  unflinching  patriotism, 
and  the  energy  and  skill  with  which  he  thwarted  the  plans  and 
designs  of  the  Tories,  made  himself  particularly  obnoxious  to  them. 
His  active  duties  as  a  scout,  sometimes  kept  him  for  months  from 
his  home,  where  his  young  wife  had  nothing  but  her  heroism  of 
spirit  to  oppose  to  the  marauding  bands  that  traversed  the  "  Neutral 
Ground,"  and  whose  creed  it  was,  to  make  war  upon  women  and 
children  indiscriminately.  While  the  high-minded  Whig,  therefore, 
was  serving  his  country,  in  the  swamp  and  on  the  mountain,  the  wife 
had  to  undergo  scenes,  requiring  an  equal  courage  and  fortitude, 
with  those  of  his. 

She  was  one  of  those  women  of  the  revolution,  by  whose  indomitable 

350 


MR.    AND    MR8.    FISHER.  81 

spirit  and  active  benevolence  our  armies  were  often  held  together, 
and  our  soldiers  encouraged  to  persevere  in  the  glorious  course  they 
had  begun.  She  was  without  fear,  and  was  always  ready  to  serve 
her  country,  or  defend  herself,  upon  any  emergency.  The  American 
soldier,  too,  often  found  relief  from  suffering,  through  her  benevolence. 
She  was  one  of  those,  who  attended  upon  the  wounded  of  White 
Plains,  and  administered  comfort  to  the  dying,  and  relief  to  the 
wounded.  After  this  battle,  when  Washington's  army  was  encamped 
near  her  residence,  the  Commander-in-Chief 's  table  was  often  indebted 
for  many  of  its  delicacies,  to  the  prudent  attention  and  care  of  Mrs. 
Fisher.  Washington  often  expressed  his  obligations  to  her  in  person. 

Many  anecdotes  are  related  of  her  daring.  On  one  occasion,  a 
favorite  colt  was  stolen,  when  she  mounted  a  horse  and  rode  down 
to  Morrissania,  where  the  loyalists  were  encamped,  and  demanded  of 
the  English  officer  in  command,  the  restoration  of  her  property.  The 
Englishman  courteously  assented,  and  the  colt  being  found,  it  was 
restored  to  her.  This  was  considered  at  the  time,  a  most  daring 
expedition.  Her  route,  which  was  a  long  one,  was  through  a  section 
of  country  beset  with  marauders,  who  were  never  in  the  habit  of 
hesitating  to  make  war  on  a  woman. 

We  remarked  that  the  danger  from  the  marauding  Tory  bands, 
prevented  Mr.  Fisher  from  visiting  his  home,  but  at  long  intervals. 
There  was  one  band  of  Tories  notorious  for  its  cruelty,  headed  by 
one  Blinclberry,  a  most  blood-thirsty  wretch,  whose  memory  to  this 
day,  is  only  preserved  to  be  execrated.  This  fellow  was  the  terror 
of  the  whole  community.  On  one  occasion,  after  having  been  absent 
for  six  months,  Mr.  Fisher's  anxiety  to  see  his  family,  became  so 
great,  that  one  evening  he  cautiously  approached  the  house,  and  was 
admitted  unseen.  Late  that  night,  after  he  had  retired,  steps  were 
heard  without,  and  presently  there  was  a  loud  knocking  at  the  door, 
with  a  peremptory  summons  for  it  to  be  opened.  This  riot  being 
heeded,  it  was  repeated,  with  a  threat  to  break  open  the  door,  if  it 
was  not  complied  with.  The  house  was  a  simple  old-fashioned  cot 
tage,  the  door  opening  directly  into  a  room,  which  was  used  by  Mr. 
Fisher  and  his  wife  as  a  sleeping  room.  The  party  now  discharged 
their  pistols  three  or  four  times  through  the  window,  but  the  balls 
lodged  harmlessly  in  the  walls.  This  proceeding  effecting  nothing, 

351 


32  TALES    AND    TRADITIONS. 

they  begun  at  once  to  demolish  the  door,  and  in  a  few  moments  they 
burst  roughly  into  the  room.  Mr.  Fisher  sprung  from  the  bed,  pre 
pared  to  defend  his -wife  and  himself  to  the  last.  But  the  only  object 
of  this  band  was  plunder.  In  those  times,  the  country  people  were 
compelled  to  convert  their  effects  into  money,  as  every  thing  move- 
able,  would  be  sure  to  be  captured,  and  having  no  means  of  investing 
their  wealth,  it  was  generally  concealed  in  secure  places.  But  these 
concealments  rarely  availed  them  any  thing,  if  their  persons  should 
fall  into  the  hands  of  the  Tories,  as  every  means  of  torture  that  inge 
nuity  could  suggest,  was  availed  of  to  force  the  hapless  victims  to 
betray  the  hiding  place  of  their  wealth.  Hanging,  roasting  over  slow 
fires,  or  a  pistol  at  the  head,  were  the  usual  modes  adopted. 

The  Tory  leader,  who  was  no  other  than  this  same  Blindbeny, 
demanded  of  Mr.  Fisher  his  gold.  The  stem  patriot,  who  was  a 
man  of  unconquerable  will,  calmly  refused.  The  marauders  became 
enraged,  and  he  was  threatened  with  death  if  he  persisted  in  his 
denial.  But  neither  the  flashing  swords  that  gleamed  around  him, 
the  musket  at  his  breast,  nor  the  furious  aspects  of  the  wretches, 
could  move  him  a  jot  from  his  determined  purpose.  The  word  was 
given  to  try  hanging.  In  an  instant  a  rope  wras  thrown  over  the 
branch  of  a  tree,  that  stood  by  the  door,  and  their  victim  was  drawn 
beneath  it,  and  the  rope  adjusted  to  his  neck.  Once  more  he  was 
asked  to  give  up  his  money.  Without  the  tremor  of  a  muscle,  he 
refused.  The  next  moment  he  was  dangling  high  up  in  the  air.  He 
was  allowed  to  suspend  for  a  few  seconds,  and  lowered  to  the  ground. 
His  reply  to  the  same  question  was  given,  in  an  undaunted  refusal. 
Again  did  his  tormentors  run  him  up  into  the  air ;  bnt  when  they 
again  lowered  him,  he  had  fainted.  In  a  few  moments,  however, 
he  revived,  and  as  the  knowledge  of  the  affair  gradually  broke  upon 
his  mind,  he  thundered  out,  "  No,  not  a  farthing !"  Once  more  did 
the  wretches  swing  him  off,  and  this  time  he  was  kept  suspended 
until  they  thought  he  was  dead,  when  they  lowered  him,  and  seeing 
now  no  chance  of  obtaining  the  coveted  gold,  they  departed. 

The  agony  of  the  wife  during  this  scene,  can  only  be  imagined. 

A  Tory  was  stationed  by  her  side,  and  with  a  pistol  at  her  head, 

enjoined  silence  on  the  penalty  of  her  life.     In  those  few  minutes 

were  crowded  a  life  of  torture  and  suffering.     When  they  had  gone, 

352 


DEATH    OF   A    TORY    LEADER.  35 

she  tremblingly  stole  out  to  tlie  side  of  her  husband,  and  with  what 
little  strength  she  possessed,  dragged  his  lifeless  form  into  the  house. 
With  the  vague  hope  that  he  might  not  be  dead,  she  applied  resto 
ratives,  and  soon  had  the  unspeakable  joy  of  detecting  signs  of  life. 
Ere  morning,  he  was  entirely  restored,  and  that  very  day  joined  his 
scout. 

Continuing  their  route,  the  Tories  fell  upon  several  of  the  neigh 
bors,  all  of  whom  suffered  some  cruelty  at  their  hands.  At  one 
house  they  placed  its  master  in  a  chair,  tied  him  down,  and  built  a 
fire  under  him,  by  which  means  he  was  at  last  compelled  by  his 
unsupportable  agony  to  reveal  the  hiding  place  of  his  gold.  But  a 
terrible  retribution  was  preparing  for  them.  Major  Paulding  had 
gathered  a  party  of  his  men,  and  was  in  hot  pursuit  of  them.  As 
the  Major  was  following  up  their  track,  he  stopped  at  the  residence 
of  Mr.  Wright,  an  old  Quaker,  who  felt  a  strong  sympathy  for  the 
American  cause,  but  whose  principles  prevented  him  from  taking  an 
active  part  in  the  contest  To  the  inquiry,  if  such  a  party  of  Tories 
as  has  been  described,  was  seen,  the  Quaker  replied  in  the  affirmative, 
pointing  out  the  course  they  had  taken. 

"  What  do  you  say,  my  men,"  said  the  Major  to  his  followers, 
"  shall  we  follow  them  up  ?" 

A  unanimous  consent  was  given. 

"  Jonathan,  if  thee  wishes  to  see  those  men,"  said  Mr.  Wright, 
approaching  Major  Paulding,  with  a  knowing  look,  "  if  thee  wishes 
to  see  them  particular,  would  it  not  be  better  for  thee  to  go  to 
*  Brundage's  Corner,'  as  they  are  most  likely  from  the  North,  and 
will  return  that  way.  There  thee  can'st  see  them  without  doubt." 

The  shrewd  insinuation  of  the  Quaker,  was  caught  hi  an  instant. 
The  place  referred  to,  afforded  a  most  admirable  place  for  an  ambus 
cade,  and  by  secreting  themselves  there,  the  enemy  was  certain  to 
fall  into  their  hands. 

The  Whigs  had  not  been  concealed  long,  ere  the  party  was  heard 
approaching.  At  the  signal,  the  patriots  sprung  forward,  and  dis 
charged  their  weapons.  At  the  very  first  fire,  the  bloodthirsty  Tory 
leader  fell,  some  said  from  a  bullet  discharged  by  the  hand  of  Major 
Paulding  himself. 

The  intense  hatred  felt  by  the  people  toward  Blindberry,  and  the 

355 


36  TALES    AND    TRADITIONS. 

universal  joy  manifested  at  his  fall,  prompted  some  to  make  a  public 
rejoicing  on  the  event,  and  in  order  to  express  their  uncompromising 
hostility  to  their  foe,  his  body  was  hung  before  the  assembled  patriots 
of  the  district,  amid  their  jeers  and  expressions  of  pleasure.  Among 
the  assembly  was  Mr.  Fisher,  who,  but  a  few  hours  before  had  so 
nearly  fallen  a  victim  to  his  cruelty. 

Some  little  time  after  the  preceding  events,  while  Mr.  Fisher  was 
on  another  visit  to  his  family,  sudden  word  was  brought,  that  the 
Tories  were  approaching.  This,  as  before,  was  during  the  night. 
Mr.  Fisher  had  reason  to  suppose,  that  the  object  of  this  party,  was 
to  secure  his  person,  and  it  became  necessary  to  obtain  a  place  of 
concealment.  The  most  advantageous  one  that  offered,  was  beneath 
the  flooring,  which  was  loose,  where  was  ample  room  for  him,  and 
wThere  it  was  hoped,  the  Tories  would  not  think  of  looking  for  their 
enemy.  Scarcely  had  he  secreted  himself,  when  the  Tories  appeared. 
They  burst  into  the  presence  of  Mrs.  Fisher,  in  a  boisterous  manner, 
and  with  brutal  jests  and  extravagant  threats,  demanded  to  be 
informed,  where  her  husband  was'  To  these  inquiries,  the  undaunted 
woman  deigned  no  reply. 

"  Come,  give  us  a  light,"  said  the  leader,  "  that  we  may  ferret  out 
your  rebel  husband's  hiding  place.  I'll  swear,  that  you've  got  him 
stowed  away  somewhere  here." 

"  I  have  no  light,"  was  the  calm  reply. 

The  difficulties  of  procuring  stores,  sometimes  left  Whig  families 
for  weeks  without  the  common  necessities. 

"  Come,  my  woman,  none  of  that  1"  broke  in  the  Tory  ;  "  a  light 
we  want,  and  a  light  we  must  have,  so  bring  out  your  candles  !" 

"  I  have  none,"  reiterated  Mrs,  Fisher. 

The  Tory,  with  an  oath,  drew  a  pistol,  cocked  it,  and  corning  up 
to  her,  placed  the  muzzle  in  her  face. 

"  Look  here,  my  lady,"  said  he,  "  we  know  that  you've  got  your 
rebel  of  a  husband  somewhere  about  here,  and  if  you  don't  at  once 
give  us  a  candle,  so  that  we  may  hunt  out  his  hiding  place,  I'll  blow 
your  brains  out." 

"  I  have  told  you,"  replied  the  lady,  "  that  I  have  no  candle ;  I 
can  not  give  you  one,  so  you  may  blow  my  brains  out  the  moment 
you  please." 


THE    AMBUSCADE.  37 

The  heroic  spirit  that  breathed  in  her  words,  and  the  firm  look 
from  her  undaunted  eye,  convinced  the  Tory  that  she  was  not  to  be 
intimidated.  They  were  compelled  to  make  their  search  in  the  dark. 
After  rummaging  into  every  nook  and  corner  in  vain,  they  gave  up 
their  object.  On  several  other  occasions,  Mr.  Fisher  had  similar 
narrow  escapes. 

We  can  not  refrain  from  referring  to  one  enterprise  in  which  Mr. 
Fisher  was  engaged,  by  which  means  fifteen  Whigs  put  to  flight,  over 
three  hundred  Hessians.  The  news  of  their  approach  was  spread 
abroad,  and  the  utmost  consternation  prevailed.  The  Hessians 
were  always  held  in  great  terror  by  the  country  people.  On  this 
occasion,  they  fled  at  their  approach  into  the  forests  and  other  secure 
fastnesses.  Coney  Hill,  was  the  usual  place  of  retreat  on  these 
alarms.  This  was  a  hill  somewhat  off  from  the  main  roads,  and 
which  was  surrounded  by  narrow  defiles,  and  reached  only  through 
dense  thickets,  while  its  rocky  and  irregular  surface,  afforded  a  means 
of  defense  impregnable.  No  fortress  could  have  been  more  secure. 
All  the  inhabitants,  therefore,  retreated  to  this  fastness,  Mrs.  Fisher 
alone  of  all  neighbors,  venturing  to  remain  within  her  own  house. 

The  usual  road  traveled  by  the  armies,  that  led  north  from  White 
Plains,  in  one  place  described  a  wide  circuit,  but  there  was  a  narrow, 
irregular  road,  sometimes  used,  that  shortened  the  distance  consider 
ably.  But  this  road  was  very  dangerous  to  any  large  body  of  men. 
It 'led  by  the  Coney  Hill,  which  we  have  mentioned,  and  its  whole 
length  was  through  a  rocky  region,  overgrown  with  tangled  thickets 
of  laurel,  that  would  have  afforded  effectual  protection  and  conceal 
ment  to  a  body  of  assailants,  and  have  made  a  small  force  formidable 
to  a  large  one. 

At  a  point  on  this  road,  therefore,  Major  Paulding  and  fifteen 
followers  stationed  themselves,  with  a  belief,  that  from  the  irregular 
and  incautious  manner  the  Hessians  were  marching,  they  would  be 
induced  to  lessen  their  route,  by  taking  the  shorter  cut.  The  belief 
proved  to  be  well  founded.  The  spot  where  Major  Paulding  posted 
his  ambuscade,  was  one  remarkably  well  adapted  to  that  kind  of 
warfare.  It  was,  where  the  road  passing  through  a  defile,  made  a 
sudden  turn  around  a  large  rock,  and  where  it  was  so  narrow,  that 
six  men  could  not  pass  abreast,  while  the  whole  rising  ground 
357 


88  TALES   AND    TRADITIONS. 

on  either  side  was  irregular,  with  rough,  jagged  rocks,  and  covered 
with  a  dense  growth  of  laurel. 

Stationed  at  different  points,  and  protected  by  rocky  battlements> 
the  little  band  quietly  awaited  the  coming  of  their  enemy.  At  last 
they  appeared,  approaching  carelessly,  and  with  an  utter  want  of 
military  prudence.  Not  a  sound,  nor  breath  betrayed  to  them  the 
presence  of  a  foe  The  rocks,  and  laurel  bushes,  gave  forth  no  sign 
of  the  deadly  messengers  to  be  launched  from  their  bosoms.  Part 
of  the  Hessians  had  already  passed  the  turn  of  the  road,  when  sud 
denly,  like  a  clap  of  thunder  from  an  azure  sky,  an  explosion  burst 
from  the  flinty  rocks  that  surrounded  them,  and  several  of  their 
number,  pitched  headlong  to  the  earth.  Those  in  front,  panic  struck, 
fell  back  upon  those  in  the  rear,  while  those  in  the  rear  pressed  for 
ward,  uncertain  of  the  danger,  and  discharged  their  muskets  into  the 
thickets,  but  the  bullets  rebounded  harmlessly  from  the  rocky  walls, 
that  inclosed  their  enemy.  Another  volley  completed  their  panic. 
Terrified  at  the  presence  of  an  enemy,  that  seemed  to  fight  from  the 
bowels  of  the  earth,  and  unable  to  estimate  the  full  extent  of  their 
danger,  which  their  imagination  greatly  magnified,  they  gave  a  wild 
cry,  and  fled  precipitately. 

This  event  afforded  the  Whigs  for  a  long  time  much  merriment, 
particularly  as  it  was  accompanied  with  no  loss  to  the  little  party, 
who  had  given  the  Hessians  their  terrible  fright.  Mrs.  Fisher  was 
accustomed  to  give  an  amusing  relation  of  the  manner  they  appeared, 
as  they  flew  by  her  house,  each  running  at  his  utmost  speed,  with 
the  tin  cannisters  and  other  numerous  accouterments  with  which  the 
Hessian  soldiers  were  always  so  plentifully  provided — flying  out  in 
a  straight  line  behind  them. 

The  following  incident,  admirably  illustrates  the  presence  of  mind, 
and  the  many  resources  of  this  courageous  lady.  One  day,  a  Whig 
neighbor  burst  hastily  into  her  presence,  saying,  that  he  was  pursued 
by  a  body  of  Tories,  and  if  not  concealed  immediately,  he  was  lost. 
It  did  not  take  a  moment  for  Mrs.  Fisher  to  decide  upon  her  course. 
There  was  a  large  ash  heap  just  out  of  the  back  door,  some  four  or 
five  feet  in  hight,  and  as  many  long.  Seizing  a  shovel,  in  a  moment 
she  made  an  excavation,  into  which  the  fugitive  crept,  and  the  lady 
covered  him  with  ashes,  having  first  taken  the  precaution  to  procure 
358 


WILLIAM  MAYBIN'S  FAMILY.  89 

some  guils j  which  she  placed  one  in  another,  and  thus  formed  him 
a  breathing-hole,  by  which  he  sustained  life,  while  the  Tories  sought 
in  Vain  for  his  hiding  place. 

A  more  humble  family,  but  one  which  did  good  service  in  the 
cause  of  liberty,  was  that  of  William  Maybin.  Maybin  was  taken 
prisoner,  it  was  supposed,  at  Sumter's  surprise,  on  Fishing  Creek, 
August,  1780.  He  was  carried  to  Charleston,  and  died  in  one  of 
those  charnel-houses  of  freedom,  a  prison-ship.  Here,  just  as  he  was 
dying,  he  was  discovered  by  his  wife's  brother,  Benjamin  Duncan,  a 
soldier  in  the  British  army,  who  obtained  permission  to  bring  his 
corpse  on  shore  for  burial.  Duncan  then  visited  his  bereaved  sister, 
and,  after  a  short  stay,  returned  to  his  duty,  promising,  as  soon  as 
possible,  to  come  back  and  provide  for  her  and  his  other  sister,  a 
married  woman.  As  a  pledge,  he  left  with  her  his  watch,  and  some 
other  articles.  The  news  of  this  valuable  deposit  was  soon  spread 
among  the  loyalists ;  it  was  rumored  that  the  watch  was  of  gold, 
falsely,  for  it  was  a  silver  one.  Spoil  was  ever  first  in  the  thoughts 
of  many  of  those  guilty  traitors ;  and  two  marauders  soon  came  to 
the  house  of  the  widow  and  orphans.  They  demanded  the  watch, 
threatening  to  take  the  lives  of  the  helpless  women  and  childen,  if 
it  was  not  delivered.  Mrs.  Maybin,  anxious  only,  like  a  true  mother, 
for  the  safety  of  her  children,  fled  to  the  woods,  leaving  her  sister  to 
contend  alone  with  the  ruffians.  She  succeeded  in  baffling  their 
cupidity.  They  did  not  find  the  watch,  although  it  was  hidden 
under  the  head  of  the  bed.  It  became  the  property  of  Maybin's  son, 
who  valued  it  as  a  memento  of  the  courage  of  his  aunt. 

This  family  had  their  full  share  of  trial  and  privation.  When 
Rawdon's  army  pursued  General  Greene  on  his  retreat  from  Ninety- 
six,  they  encamped  about  a  week  at  Colonel  Glenn's  Mills,  on  the 
Enoree.  They  then  marched  through  the  Fork,  and  crossed  at 
Lisle' s  Ford.  On  this  march,  the  soldiers  plundered  everything  on 
their  way.  The  only  piece  of  meat  she  had  left  for  her  family,  and 
which  she  had  hidden  on  the  wood-beams  of  the  house,  was  found 
and  taken  away.  A  small  gray  mare,  called  "  Dice,"  her  only  beast, 
was  also  stolen,  but  was  afterward  recovered.  This  disgraceful 
foray,  had,  it  is  said,  the  sanction  of  Lord  Rawdon. 

On  another  occasion,  a  Tory  visited  Mrs.  Maybin's  cabin,  and 

359 


40  TALES   AND    TRADITION*. 

finding  a  piece  of  homespun  in  her  loom,  cut  it  out  and  bore  it  away 
as  a  prize.  The  wretch  who  could  look  upon  the  almost  naked 
children  of  a  poor  widow,  and  take  from  her  the  means  of  a  scanty 
covering,  did  not,  however,  escape.  Little  Ephraim  Lyle,  afterward 
met  him,  and,  finding  the  cloth  upon  his  legs  in  a  pair  of  leggins, 
inflicted  upon  him  a  severe  drubbing,  and  forced  him  to  relinquish 
the  spoil. 

Horrible,  truly,  were  these  sufferings  and  privations,  but  far  more 
real  than  the  trials  of  fortitude  to  which  some  "  leading  citizens" 
were  subjected. 

John  Clark,  settled  on  the  Enoree,  near  the  place  now  called 
Clarke's  Ford.  He  was  a  staunch  and  zealous  Whig  during  the 
war.  In  a  skirmish  at  the  ford,  under  the  command  of  Captain 
Jones,  he  was  shot  through  the  leg,  and  with  difficulty  escaped  to  a 
bluff  a  mile  distant.  To  this  place  the  enemy  traced  him,  by  his 
blood,  and  took  him  prisoner.  His  mother  furnished  him  with  a  bit 
of  salve,  and  a  piece  of  cloth  to  draw  and  bind  up  his  wound.  His 
captors  compelled  him  to  mount  a  very  poor  horse,  and  ride  him., 
with  nothing  to  separate  him  from  the  animal's  sharp  backbone  but 
an  old  bed-quilt,  which  his  mother  had  given  him  from  her  own 
scanty  covering.  With  his  feet  bound  under  the  gvrron,  he  was 
compelled  to  ride,  in  great  and  increasing  agony,  more  than  forty 
miles,  to  Ninety-six.  There  he  was  cast  into  prison,  in  his  wounded 
condition,  in  the  midst  of  poor  fellows  suffering  under  a  virulent 
type  of  small-pox.  He  was  the  tenth  sufferer,  and  marvelously 
recovered,  was  liberated,  made  his  way  home,  and  lived  long  after 
the  close  of  the  revolutionary  struggle.  His  descendants  are  still  to 

be  found  in  Newberry  district. 

360 


• 


1 


CAPTAIN    SAMUEL   BRADY.  48 


BRADY'S   LEAP. 

CAPTAIN  SAMUEL  BRADY  was  the  Daniel  Boone  of  Ohio,  and  was  as 
efficient  in  the  settlement  of  that  State  as  his  illustrious  coteniporary 
was  in  establishing  the  domain  of  the  white  man  in  the  State  of 
Kentucky.  He  entered  the  army  at  the  commencement  of  our  Revo 
lutionary  struggle,  and  was  engaged  at  the  siege  of  Boston,  as  well 
as  in  many  other  important  contests,  during  the  war  for  independ 
ence.  He  was  a  Lieutenant  under  Wayne  at  the  massacre  of  Paoli, 
when  that  officer  was  surprised,  and  the  greater  portion  of  his  com 
mand  cut  to  pieces  and  destroyed  in  cold  blood.  Toward  the  close 
of  the  war,  he  was  Captain  of  a  corps  of  rangers  at  Fort  Pitt,  under 
General  Brodhead,  and  rendered  effectual  service  against  the  Indians, 
who  were  in  league  with  the  British.  He  had  lost  a  father  and 
brother  at  the  hands  of  the  red-skins,  and  swore  to  take  a  terrible 
revenge. 

To  a  mind  fertile  in  expedient,  and  quick  as  a  flash  of  light  in  its 
deliberations,  he  added  a  frame  well-knit,  though  slight,  and  a  consti 
tution  of  iron  mold.  He  was  an  Indian-fighter  con  amore,  and  the 
greater  portion  of  his  time  was  spent  in  the  war-path.  Many  are  the 
deeds  of  daring  and  thrilling  adventure  related  of  him.  A  volume 
might  be  written  embracing  the  adventures  and  hair-breadth  escapes 
of  the  gallant  Captain ;  but,  in  common  with  an  immense  mass  of 
unwritten  tradition  equally  valuable  and  interesting,  they  are  fast 
being  forgotten  and  buried  in  the  graves  of  the  past  generation. 

On  one  occasion,  while  out  with  a  small  party  of  his  rangers  hi 
pursuit  of  the  Indians,  he  had  gone  as  far  as  Slippery  Rock  Creek,  a 
branch  of  Beaver  River,  in  Western  Pennsylvania,  without  seeing  any 
signs  of  his  foe.  Here,  however,  he  struck  upon  a  fresh  trail,  which 
led  up  the  creek,  and  he  hastened  in  pursuit  of  the  savages,  who 
were  some  distance  in  advance.  He  followed  the  trail  until  evening, 
when  he  was  obliged  to  wait  the  return  of  daylight  before  he  could 
pursue  it  further.  At  the  earliest  dawn  he  started  afresh,  and  without 


44  TALES    AND    TRADITIONS. 

I 

stopping  to  break  his  fast,  he  hurried  on,  bent  on  coming  up  with 
the  enemy  before  they  could  reach  their  towns.  His  precipitancy 
had  nearly  cost  him  his  life,  for  although  the  party  in  front  did  not 
dream  of  his  proximity,  yet  a  body  of  warriors,  far  outnumbering  his 
own  small  band,  had  discovered  his  trail,  and  were  following  it  with 
as  much  avidity  as  he  was  pursuing  their  comrades. 

Brady  discovered  those  in  front,  just  as  they  were  finishing  their 
morning  meal  and  preparing  to  renew  their  journey.  Placing  his 
men  in  such  a  manner  as  to  intercept  them,  should  any  attempt  to 
escape,  at  a  given  signal  they  delivered  a  close  and  well-directed 
volley,  and  started  up  to  rush  upon  the  enemy  with  their  tomahawks, 
when  the  band  in  their  rear  fired  upon  them  in  turn,  taking  them 
completely  by  surprise,  killing  two  of  their  number,  and  throwing 
the  remainder  into  confusion.  Finding  himself  thus  between  two 
fires,  and  vastly  outnumbered,  there  was  nothing  left  but  flight ;  and 
Brady,  directing  his  inch  to  look  out  for  themselves,  started  off  at  his 
topmost  speed  in  the  direction  of  the  creek. 

The  Indians  had  a  long  and  heavy  account  to  settle  with  him, 
however,  and  deemed  this  the  opportunity  to  wipe  it  out  with  his 
blood.  For  this  purpose  they  desired  to  secure  him  alive,  and  fifty 
red-skins,  regardless  of  the  others,  who  had  scattered  in  every  direc 
tion,  dropped  their  rifles  and  followed  him.  The  Indians  knew  the 
ground,  Brady  did  not,  and  they  felt  secure  of  their  victim  when  they 
saw  him  run  toward  the  creek,  which  was  at  this  point  a  wide,  deep, 
and  rapid  stream.  A  yell  of  triumph  broke  from  them  as  he  arrived 
at  the  bank  and  comprehended  his  desperate  situation.  There  was 
apparently  no  escape,  and  for  a  moment  the  Captain  felt  that  his  time 
had  come.  It  was  but  for  an  instant,  however.  He  well  knew  the 
fate  which  awaited  him  should  he  fall  into  the  hands,  of  his  enemies, 
and  this  reflection  nerved  him  to  a  deed  which,  perhaps,  in  his 
calmer  moments,  he  would  have  found  himself  incapable  of  perform 
ing.  Gathering  all  his  force  into  one  mighty  effort,  as  he  approached 
the  brink  of  the  stream,  and  clinging  with  a  death-grip  to  his  trusty 
rifle,  he  sprung  across  the  chasm  through  which  the  stream  run,  and 
landed  safely  upon  the  other  side,  with  hi.-<  rifle  in  his  hand.  Quick 
as  thought,  his  piece  was  primed,  and  he  commenced  to  reload.  His 
feet  had  barely  made  their  imprint  upon  the  soft,  yielding  soil  of  the 
364 


BRADY'S  LEAP.  15 

* 

western  bank,  before  his  place  was  filled  by  the  brawny  form  of  a 
warrior,  who,  having  been  foremost  in  the  pursuit,  now  stood  amazed 
as  he  contemplated  the  gap  over  which  the  Captain  had  passed. 
With  a  frankness  which  seemed  not  to  undervalue  the  achievement 
of  an  enemy,  the  savage,  in  tolerable  good  English,  exclaimed :  "  Blady 
make  good  jump  !  Blady  make  very  good  jump  !"  His  conflicting 
emotions  of  regret  at  the  escape  of  his  intended  victim,  and  admira 
tion  of  the  deed  by  which  that  escape  had  been  accomplished,  did  not 
hinder  the  discovery  that  Brady  was  engaged  in  loading  his  piece ; 
and  he  did  not  feel  assured  but  that  his  compliment  would  be 
returned  from  the  muzzle  of  the  Captain's  rifle.  He  incontinently 
took  to  his  heels  as  he  discovered  the  latter  ramming  home  the  bullet, 
which  might  the  next  moment  be  searching  out  a  vital  part  in  his 
dusky  form ;  and  his  erratic  movements  showed  that  he  entertained 
no  mean  idea  of  his  enemy's  skill  at  sharp-shooting.  The  outline  of 
the  most  intricate  field  fortification  would  convey  but  a  slight  idea 
of  the  serpentine  course  he  pursued,  until  satisfied  that  he  was  out  of 
rifle  shot.  Sometimes  leaping  in  the  air,  at  others  squatting  suddenly 
on  his  haunches,  and  availing  himself  of  every  shelter,  he  evinced  a 
lively  fear,  which  doubtless  had  its  origin  in  a  previous  knowledge 
of  the  fatal  accuracy  of  the  Captain's  aim.  Brady  had  other  views, 
however,  and  was  not  disposed  to  waste  time  and  powder  upon  a 
single  enemy,  when  surrounded  by  hundreds,-  and  when  the  next 
moment  an  empty  barrel  might  cost  him  his  life;  and  while  the 
savage  was  still  displaying  his  agility  on  the  opposite  bank,  he  darted 
into  the  woods,  and  made  his  way  to  a  rendezvous  previously  fixed 
upon,  where  he  met  the  remainder  of  his  party,  and  they  took  their 
way  for  home,  not  more  than  half  defeated.  It  was  not  a  great  while 
before  they  were  again  on  the  •war-path,  in  search  of  further  adventures. 

Brady  afterward  visited  the  spot,  and,  out  of  curiosity,  he  measured 
the  stream  at  the  place  where  he  jumped,  and  found  it  to  measure 
twenty-three  feet  from  shore  to  shore,  and  the  water  to  be  twenty- 
feet  deep. 

A  similar  incident  is  related  of  Brady  in  the  "  Historical  Collec 
tions  of  Ohio,"  as  having  occurred  on  the  banks  of  the  Cuyahoga,  in 
which  it  is  stated  that,  as  he  was  crawling  up  the  opposite  bank,  the 
Indians  fired  upon  him,  and  wounded  him  in  the  hip,  but  he  managed 

365 


46  TALES   AND    TRADITIONS. 

to  stanch  the  wound  and  escape,  by  hiding  himself  in  the  hollow 
trunk  of  a  tree  until  the  search  for  him  was  over,  when  he  crawled 
out,  and,  after  incredible  hardship  and  fatigue,  arrived  safe  at  his 
quarters.  The  two  stories  may  have  had  their  origin  in  the  same 
occurrence,  but  the  details  are  so  dissimilar,  except  in  the  distance, 
which  is  in  both  cases  about  twenty-three  feet,  that  it  is  possible,  nay, 
more  than  probable,  that  the  Captain  was  called  upon  to  exert  his 
great  powers  on  two  separate  occasions  to  save  himself  from  the  tor 
ture  or  the  stake. 

At  the  time  of  this  famous  occurrence,  Brady  was  under  orders 
from  General  Brodhead.  The  Indians  did  not  return  that  season  to 
do  any  injury  to  the  whites ;  and  early  that  fall,  moved  off  to  their 
friends,  the  British,  who  had  to  keep  them  all  winter,  their  corn 
having  been  destroyed  by  Brodhead. 

When  the  General  found  the  Indians  were  gone,  at  the  suggestion 
of  Brady,  three  companies  were  ordered  out,  with  a  sufficient  number 
of  pack-horses,  to  kill  game  for  the  supply  of  the  garrison.  These 
companies  were  commanded  by  Captains  Harrison,  Springer  and 
Brady.  Game  was  very  plenty,  for  neither  whites  nor  Indians  ven 
tured  to  hunt,  and  great  quantities  were  put  up. 

In  putting  up  his  tent,  Captain  Brady's  tomahawk  had  slipped  and 
cut  his  knee,  by  which  he  was  lamed  for  some  time.  This  occa 
sioned  him  to  remain  at  the  tents  until  he  got  well,  which  afforded 
him  the  opportunity  of  witnessing  some  of  the  peculiar  superstitions 
of  his  Indian  allies,  for  he  had  his  Indians  and  their  families  along 
with  him. 

One  of  these  Indians  had  assumed  the  name  of  Wilson.  The 
Captain  was  lying  in  his  tent  one  afternoon,  and  observed  his  man, 
Wilson,  coming  home  in  a  great  hurry,  and  that,  as  he  met  his  squaw, 
he  gave  her  a  kick,  without  saying  a  word,  and  begun  to  unbreech 
his  gun.  The  squaw  went  away,  and  returned  soon  after,  with  some 
roots,  which  she  had  gathered ;  and,  after  washing  them  clean,  she 
put  them  into  a  kettle  to  boil.  While  boiling,  Wilson  corked  up  the 
muzzle  of  his  gun,  and  stuck  the  breech  into  the  kettle,  and  continued 
it  there  until  the  plug  flew  out  of  the  muzzle.  He  then  took  it  out 
and  put  it  into  the  stock.  Brady,  knowing  the  Indians  were  very 
"  superstitious,"  as  we  call  it,  did  not  speak  to  him  until  he  saw  him 


BRADY    AT   THE    STAKE.  47 

wiping  his  gun.  He  then  called  to  him,  and  asked  what  was  the 
matter.  Wilson  came  to  the  Captain,  and  said,  hi  reply,  that  his  gun 
had  been  very  sick — that  she  could  not  shoot ;  he  had  been  just 
giving  her  a  vomit,  and  she  was  now  well.  Whether  the  vomit 
helped  the  gun,  or  only  strengthened  Wilson's  nerves,  the  Captain 
could  not  tell,  but  he  averred  that  Wilson  killed  ten  deer  the  next  day. 

Beaver  Valley  was  the  scene  of  many  of  Captain  Brady's  stirring 
adventures.  We  have  heard  from  many  of  the  older  citizens  their 
accounts  of  his  thrilling  exploits.  They  speak  in  unbounded  terms 
of  admiration  of  his  daring  and  success ;  his  many  hair-breadth 
escapes  by  "  field  and  flood ;"  and  always  concluded  by  declaring  that 
he  was  a  greater  man  than  Daniel  Boone  or  Lewis  Wetzel,  either  of 
whom,  in  the  eyes  of  the  old  pioneers,  were  the  very  embodiment  of 
hare-devilism. 

The  following,  illustrating  one  of  Brady's  adventures  in  the  region 
referred  to,  we  give  from  a  published  source.  In  one  of  his  trapping 
and  hunting  excursions,  he  was  surprised  and  taken  prisoner  by 
Indians  who  had  closely  watched  his  movements. 

"  To  have  shot  or  tomahawked  him  would  have  been  but  a  small 
gratification  to  that  of  satiating  their  revenge  by  burning  him  at  a 
slow  fire,  in  presence  of  all  the  Indians  of  their  village.  He  was, 
therefore,  taken  alive  to  their  encampment,  on  the  west  bank  of  the 
Beaver  River,  about  a  mile  and  a  half  from  its  mouth.  After  the 
usual  exultations  and  rejoicings  at  the  capture  of  a  noted  enemy,  and 
causing  him  to  run  the  gauntlet,  a  fire  was  prepared,  near  which 
Brady  was  placed,  after  being  stripped,  and  with  his  arms  unbound. 
Previous  to  tying  him  to  the  stake,  a  large  circle  was  formed  around 
of  Indian  men,  women  and  children,  dancing  and  yelling,  and  utter 
ing  all  manner  of  threats  and  abuses  that  their  small  knowledge  of 
the  English  language  could  afford.  The  prisoner  looked  on  these 
preparations  for  death  and  on  his  savage  foe  wyith  a  firm  countenance 
and  a  steady  eye,  meeting  all  their  threats  with  truly  savage  fortitude. 
In  the  midst  of  their  dancing  and  rejoicing,  a  squaw  of  one  of  their 
chiefs  came  near  him  with  a  child  in  her  arms.  Quick  as  thought, 
and  with  intuitive  prescience^  he  snatched  it  from  her,  and  threw  it 
into  the  midst  of  the  flames.  Horror-stricken  at  the  sudden  outrage, 
the  Indians  simultaneously  rushed  to  rescue  the  infant  from  the  fire. 

367 


48  TALES    AND    TRADITIONS. 

Iii  the  miil^t  of  this  confasion,  Brady  darted  from  the  circle,  over 
turning  all  that  came  in  his  way,  and  rushed  into  the  adjacent  thicket, 
with  the  Indians  yelling  at  his  heels.  He.  ascended  the  steep  side  of 
a  hill  amid  a  shower  of  bullets,  and  darting  down  the  opposite 
declivity^  secreted  himself  in  the  deep  ravines  and  laurel  thickets  that 
abound  for  several  miles  in  the  West.  His  knowledge  of  the  country 
and  wonderful  activity  enabled  him  to  elude  his  enemies,  and  reach 
the  settlements  in  safety." 

Shortly  after  he  entered  the  service  of  General  Broadhead,  he  was 
sent,  on  a  scout,  as  far  west  as  Sandusky.  Captain  Brady  was  not 
insensible  to  the  danger,  or  ignorant  of  the  difficulty  of  the  enterprise. 
But  he  saw  the  anxiety  of  the  father  of  his  country  to  procure  in 
formation  that  could  only  be  obtained  by  this  perilous  mode,  and 
knew  its  importance.  His  own  danger  was  an  inferior  consideration. 
The  appointment  was  accepted,  and,  selecting  a  few  soldiers,  and 
four  Chickasaw  Indians  as  guides,  he  crossed  the  Allegany  river, 
and  was  at  once  in  the  enemy's  country. 

It  was  in  May,  1780,  that  he  commenced  his  march.  The  season 
was  uncommonly  wet.  Every  considerable  stream  was  swollen ; 
neither  road,  bridge  nor  house  facilitated  their  march,  or  shielded 
their  repose.  Part  of  their  provision  was  picked  up  by  the  way,  as 
they  crept,  rather  than  marched  through  the  wilderness  by  night,  and 
lay  concealed  in  its  branches  by  day.  The  slightest  trace  of  his 
movement,  the  print  of  a  white  man's  foot  on  the  sand  of  a  river, 
might  have  occasioned  the  extermination  of  the  party.  Brady  was 
versed  in  all  the  wiles  of  Indian  "  strategy,"  and,  dressed  in  the  full 
war  dress  of  an  Indian  warrior,  and  well  acquainted  with  their  lan 
guages,  he  led  his  band  in  safety  near  to  the  Sandusky  towns,  without 
seeing  a  hostile  Indian. 

The  night  before  he  reached  Sandusky  he  saw  a  fire,  approached 
it,  and  found  two  squaws  reposing  beside  it.  He  passed  on  without 
molesting  them.  But  his  Chickasaws  now  deserted.  This  was 
alarming,  for  it  was  probable  they  had  gone  over  to  the  enemy. 
However,  he  determined  to  proceed.  "With  a  full  knowledge  of  the 
horrible  death  that  awaited  him  if  taken  prisoner,  he  passed  on,  until 
he  stood  beside  the  town,  and  on  the  bank  of  the  river. 

His  first  care  was  to  provide  a  place  of  concealment  for  his  men. 
368 


BRADY   AT   AN   INDIAN    HORSE-RACE.  49 

When  this  was  effected,  having  selected  one  man  as  the  companion 
of  his  future  adventures,  he  waded  the  river  to  an  island  partially 
covered  with  driftwood,  opposite  the  town,  where  he  concealed  him 
self  and. comrade  for  the  night. 

In  constancy  of  purpose,  in  cool,  deliberate  courage,  the  Captain 
of  the  Rangers  will  compare  with  any  hero  of  this  age,  or  any  other. 
Neither  banner  nor  pennon  waved  over  him.  He  was  hundreds  of 
miles  in  the  heart  of  an  enemy's  country — an  enemy  who,  had  they 
possessed  it,  would  have  given  his  weight  in  gold  for  the  pleasure  of 
burning  him  to  death  with  a  slow  fire — adding  to  his  torments,  both 
mental  and  physical,  every  ingredient  that  savage  ingenuity  could 
supply. 

Who  that  has  poetry  of  feeling,  or  feeling  of  poetry,  but  must 
pause  over  such  a  scene,  and,  in  imagination,  contemplate  its  features ! 
The  murmuring  river ;  the  sylvan  landscape  ;  as  each  was  gazed  upon 
by  that  lonely,  but  dauntless  warrior,  in  the  still  midnight  hour. 

The  next  morning  a  dense  fog  spread  over  hill  and  dale,  town  and 
river.  All  was  hid  from  Brady's  eyes,  save  the  logs  and  brush  around 
him.  About  eleven  o'clock  it  cleared  off,  and  afforded  him  a  view 
of  about  three  thousand  Indians,  engaged  in  the  amusements  of  the 
race  ground. 

They  had  just  returned  from  Virginia  or  Kentucky  with  some 
very  fine  horses.  One  gray  horse  in  particular  attracted  his  notice. 
He  won  every  race  until  near  evening,  when,  as  if  envious  of  his 
speed,  two  riders  were  placed  on  him,  and  thus  he  was  beaten.  The 
starting  post  was  only  a  few  rods  above  where  Brady  lay,  and  he  had 
a  pretty  fair  chance  of  enjoying  the  amusement,  without  the  risk  of 
losing  any  thing  by  betting  on  the  race. 

He  made  such  observation  through  the  day  as  was  in  his  power, 
waded  out  from  the  island  at  night,  collected  his  men,  went  to  the 
Indian  camp  he  had  seen  as  he  came  out;  the  squaws  were  still 
there ;  he  took  them  prisoners,  and  continued  his  march  homeward. 

The  map  furnished  by  General  Broadhead  was  found  to  be  defect 
ive.  The  distance  was  represented  to  be  much  less  than  it  really 
was.  The  provisions  and  ammunition  of  the  men  were  exhausted 
by  the  time  they  got  to  the  Big  Beaver,  on  their  return.  Brady  shot 
an  otter,  but  could  not  eat  it.  The  last  load  was  in  his  rifle.  They 

369 


50  TALES    AND    TUADITIONS. 

arrived  at  an  old  encampment,  and  found  plenty  of  strawberries, 
which  they  stopped  to  appease  their  hunger  with.  Having  discovered 
a  deer  track,  Brady  followed  it,  telling  the  men  he  would  perhaps  get 
a  shot  at  it.  He  had  gone  but  a  few  rods  when  he  saw  the  deer 
standing  broadside  to  him.  He  raised  his  rifle  and  attempted  to  fire, 
but  it  flashed  in  the  pan,  and  he  had  not  a  priming  of  powder.  He 
sat  down,  picked  the  touch-hole,  and  then  started  on.  After  going  a 
short  distance  the  path  made  a  bend,  and  he  saw  before  him  a  large 
Indian  on  horseback,  with  a  white  child  before,  and  its  captive  mother 
behind  him  on  the  horse,  and  a  number  of  warriors  marching  in  the 
rear.  His  first  impulse  was  to  shoot  the  Indian  on  horseback,  but, 
as  he  raised  his  rifle,  he  observed  the  child's  head  to  roll  with  the 
motion  of  the  horse.  It  was  fast  asleep,  and  tied  to  the  Indian.  He 
stepped  behind  the  root  of  a  tree,  and  waited  until  he  could  shoot 
the  Indian,  without  danger  to  the  child  or  its  mother. 

When  he  considered  the  chance  certain,  he  shot  the  Indian,  who 
fell  from  his  horse,  and  the  child  and  its  mother  fell  with  him. 
Brady  called  to  his  men  with  a  voice  that  made  the  forest  ring,  to 
surround  the  Indians  and  give  them  a  general  fire.  He  sprung  to 
the  fallen  Indian's  powder-horn,  but  could  not  pull  it  off.  Being 
dressed  like  an  Indian,  the  woman  thought  he  was  one,  and  said : 

"Why  did  you  shoot  your  brother?" 

He  caught  up  the  child,  saying : 

"  Jenny  Stupes,  I  am  Captain  Brady ;  follow  me,  and  I  will  secure 
you  and  your  child." 

He  caught  her  hand  in  his,  carrying  the  child  under  the  other  arm, 
and  dashed  into  the  brush.  Many  guns  were  fired  at  him  by  this 
time,  but  no  ball  harmed  him,  and  the  Indians,  dreading  an  ambus 
cade,  were  glad  to  make  off.  The  next  day  he  arrived  at  Fort  Mc- 
Intosh  with  the  woman  and  her  child.  His  men  had  got  there 
before  him.  They  had  heard  his  war-whoop,  and  knew  it  was  In 
dians  he  had  encountered,  but,  having  no  ammunition,  they  had 
taken  to  their  heels,  and  ran  off.  The  squaws  he  had  taken  at 
Sandusky,  availing  themselves  of  the  panic,  had  also  made  their 
escape. 

In  those  days  Indian  fashions  prevailed,  in  some  measure,  with  the 
whites,  at  least  with  rangers.  Brady  was  desirous  of  seeing  the 
370 


THE  INDIAN'S  GRAVE.  51 

Indian  lie  had  shot,  and  the  officer  in  command  of  Fort  Mclntosh  gave 
him  some  men  in  addition  to  his  own,  and  he  returned  to  search  for 
the  body.  The  place  where  he  had  fallen  was  discovered,  but  noth 
ing  more.  No  pains  were  spared  to  search,  but  the  body  was  not 
found.  They  were  about  to  leave  the  place,  when  the  yell  of  a  pet 
Indian,  that  came  with  them  from  the  fort,  called  them  to  a  little 
glade,  where  the  grave  was  discovered.  The  Indians  had  interred 
their  dead  brother  there,  carefully  replacing  the  sod  in  the  neatest 
manner.  They  had  also  cut  brushes  and  stuck  them  into  the  ground, 
but  the  brushes  had  withered,  and  instead  of  concealing  the  grave, 
they  led  to  the  discovery. 

He  was  buried  about  two  feet  deep,  with  all  his  implements  of  war 
about  him. 

All  his  savage  jewelry,  his  arms  and  ammunition  were  taken  from 
Him,  and  the  scalp  from  his  head,  and  then  they  left  him,  thus  strip 
ped,  alone  in  his  grave.  It  is  painful  to  think  of  such  things  being 
done  by  American  soldiers,  but  we  cannot  now  know  all  the  excusing 
circumstances  that  may  have  existed  at  the  time.  Perhaps  the  hus 
band  of  this  wornan,  the  father  of  this  child,  was  thus  butchered  be 
fore  his  wife  and  children ;  and  the  younger  members  of  the  family, 
unable  to  bear  the  fatigues  of  traveling,  had  their  brains  dashed  out 
on  the  threshold.  Such  things  were  common,  and  a  spirit  of  revenge 
was  deeply  seated  in  the  breasts  of  the  people  of  the  frontiers. 
Captain  Brady's  own  family  had  heavily  felt  the  merciless  tomahawk. 
His  brave  and  honored  father,  and  a  beloved  brother,  had  been 
treacherously  slain  by  the  Indians,  and  he  had  vowed  vengeance. 

After  refreshing  himself  and  men,  they  went  up  to  -Pitteburg  by 
water,  where  they  were  received  with  military  honors.  Minute  guns 
were  fired  from  the  time  Brady  came  in  sight  until  he  landed. 

The  Chickasaw  Indians  had  returned  to  Pittsburg,  and  reported 
that  the  Captain  and  his  party  had  been  cut  off  near  Sandusky  town 
by  the  Indians.  When  General  Broadhead  heard  this,  he  said 
Brady  was  an  aspiring  young  man,  and  had  solicited  the  command. 
But  on  Brady's  arrival  in  Pittsburg,  the  General  acknowledged  that 
the  Captain  had  accepted  the  command  with  much  diffid^iice. 

A  few  days  after  Brady  had  left  Sandusky  with  his  squaw  prison 
ers,  keeping  a  sharp  look-out  in  expectation  of  being  pursued,  and 

871 


52  TALES   AND    TRADITIONS. 

taking  every  precaution  to  avoid  pursuit,  such  as  keeping  on  the 
dryest  ridges,  and  walking  on  logs  whenever  they  suited  his  course, 
he  found  he  was  followed  by  Indians.  His  practised  eye  would  oc 
casionally  discover  in  the  distance,  an  Indian  hopping  to  or  from  a 
tree,  or  other  screen,  and  advancing  on  his  trail.  •  After  being  satis 
fied  of  the  fact,  he  stated  it  to  his  men,  and  told  them  no  Indian 
could  thus  pursue  him,  after  the  precautions  he  had  taken,  without 
a  dog  on  his  track. 

"•  I  will  stop,"  said  Brady,  "  and  shoot  the  dog,  and  then  we  can 
get  along  better." 

He  selected  the  root  of  a  tall  chestnut  tree  which  had  fallen  west 
ward,  for  his  place  of  ambush.  He  walked  from  the  west  end  of 
the  tree  or  log  to  the  east,  and  sat  down  in  the  pit  made  by 
the  raising  of  the  root.  He  had  not  been  long  there  when  a  small 
slut  mounted  the  log  at  the  west  end,  and,  Math  her  nose  to  the 
trunk,  approached  him.  Close  behind  her  followed  a  plumed  war 
rior.  Brady  had  his  choice.  He  preferred  shooting  the  slut,  which 
he  did  ;  she  rolled  off  the  log,  stone  dead,  and  the  warrior,  with  a 
loud  whoop,  sprung  into  the  woods  and  disappeared.  He  was  fol 
lowed  no  further. 

Many  of  Captain  Brady's  adventures  occurred  at  periods  of  which 
no  certainty  as  to  dates  can  now  be  had.  The  following  is  of  that 
class  : 

His  success  as  a  partisan  had  acquired  for  him  its  usual  results — 
approbation  with  some,  and  envy  with  others.  Some  of  his  brother 
officers  censured  the  Commandant  for  affording  him  such  frequent 
opportunities  for  honorable  distinction.  At  length  an  open  complaint 
was  made,  accompanied  by  a  request,  in  the  nature  of  a  demand,  that 
others  should  be  permitted  to  share  with  Brady  the  perils  and  honors 
of  the  service,  abroad  from  the  fort.  The  General  apprised  Brady  of 
what  had  passed,  who  readily  acquiesced  in  the  proposed  arrange 
ment ;  and  an  opportunity  was  not  long  wanting  for  testing  its 
efficiency. 

The  Indians  made  an  inroad  into  the  Sewickly  settlement,  com 
mitting  the  most  barbarous  murders  of  men,  women,  and  children ; 
stealing  such  property  as  was  portable,  and  destroying  all  else.  The 
alarm  was  brought  to  Pittsburg,  and  a  party  of  soldiers  under  the 
372 


ON    AN    INDIAN    TRAIL.  53 

command  of  the  emulous  officers  dispatched  for  the  protection  of  the 
settlement,  and  chastisement  of  the  foe.  From  this  expedition 
Brady  was,  of  course,  excluded ;  but  the  restraint  was  irksome  to  his 
feelings. 

The  day  after  the  detachment  had  marched,  he  solicited  permis 
sion  from  the  commander  to  take  a  small  party  for  the  purpose  of 
"  catching  the  Indians,"  but  was  refused  By  dint  of  importunity, 
however,  he  at  length  wrung  from  him  a  reluctant  consent,  and  the 
command  of  five  men ;  to  this  he  added  his  pet  Indian,  and  made  hasty 
preparation. 

Instead  of  moving  toward  Sewickly,  as  the  first  detachment  had 
done,  he  crossed  the  Alleghany  at  Pittsburg,  and  proceeded  up  the 
river.  Conjecturing  that  the  Indians  had  descended  the  stream  in 
canoes,  till  near  the  settlement ;  he  was  careful  to  examine  the 
mouths  of  all  creeks  coming  into  it,  particularly  from  the  southest. 
At  the  mouth  of  Big  Mahoning,  about  six  miles  above  Kittanning, 
the  canoes  were  seen  drawn  up  to  its  western  bank.  He  instantly 
retreated  down  the  river,  and  waited  for  night.  As  soon  as  it  was 
dark,  he  made  a  raft,  and  crossed  to  the  Kittanning  side.  He  then 
proceeded  up  the  creek,  and  found  that  the  Indians  had,  in  the  mean 
time,  crossed  the  creek,  as  their  canoes  were  drawn  to  its  upper  or 
north-eastern  bank. 

The  country  on  both -sides  of  Mahoning,  at  its  mouth,  is  rough  and 
mountainous,  and  the  stream,  which  was  then  high,  very  rapid. 
Several  ineffectual  attempts  were  made  to  wade  it,  which  they  at 
length  succeeded  in  doing,  three  or  four  miles  above  the  canoes. 
Next,  a  fire  was  made,  their  clothing  dried,  and  arms  inspected ;  and 
the  party  moved  toward  the  Indian  camp,  which  was  pitched  on  the 
second  bank  of  the  river.  Brady  placed  his  men  at  some  distance  on 
the  lower  or  first  bank. 

The  Indians  had  brought  from  Sewickly  a  stallion,  which  they  had 
fettered  and  turned  to  pasture  on  the  lower  bank.  An  Indian, 
probably  the  owner,  under  the  law  of  arms,  came  frequently  down  to 
him,  and  occasioned  the  party  no  little  trouble.  The  horse,  too, 
seemed  willing  to  keep  their  company,  and  it  required  considerable 
circumspection  to  avoid  all  intercourse  with  either.  Brady  became 
so  provoked  that  he  had  a  strong  inclination  to  tomahawk  the  Indian,, 

373 


54  TALES   AND   TRADITIONS. 

but  his  calmer  judgment  repudiated  the  act,  so  likely  to  put  to  hazard 
a  more  decisive  and  important  achievement. 

At  length  the  Indians  seemed  quiet,  and  the  Captain  determined  to 
pay  them  a  closer  visit,  which  he  succeeded  in  doing,  then  returned, 
posted  his  men,  and  in  the  deepest  silence  all  awaited  the  break  of 
day.  When  it  appeared,  the  Indians  arose  and  stood  around  their 
fires,  exulting  doubtless  in  the  scalps  they  had  taken,  the  plunder 
they  had  acquired,  and  the  injuries  they  had  inflicted  on  their 
enemies.  Precarious  joy !  short-lived  triumph  !  the  avenger  of  blood 
was  beside  them.  At  a  signal  given,  seven  rifles  cracked,  and  five 
Indians  were  dead  ere  they  fell.  Brady's  well-known  war-cry  was 
heard,  his  party  were  among  them,  and  their  rifles  (mostly  empty) 
were  all  secured.  The  remaining  Indians  instantly  fled  and  disap 
peared.  One  was  pursued  by  the  trace  of  his  blood,  which  he  seems 
to  have  succeeded  in  staunching.  The  pet  Indian  then  imitated  the 
cry  of  a  young  wolf,  which  was  answered  by  the  wounded  man,  and 
the  pursuit  was  again  renewed.  A  second  time  the  wolf  cry  was 
given  and  answered,  and  the  pursuit  continued  into  a  windfall.  Here 
he  must  have  espied  his  pursuers,  for  he  answered  no  more.  Brady 
found  his  remains  three  weeks  afterwards,  being  led  to  the  place  by 
ravens  that  were  preying  on  the  carcass. 

The  horse  was  unfettered,  the  plunder  gathered,  and  the  party  com 
menced  their  return  to  Pittsburg,  most  of  them  descending  hi  the 
Indian  canoes. 

Three  clays  after  their  return,  the  first  detachment  came  in.  They 
reported  that  they  had  followed  the  Indians  closely,  but  that  the 
latter  had  got  into  their  canoes  and  made  their  escape. 

Captain  Brady  married  a  daughter  of  Captain  Van  Swearengen,  of 
Ohio  County,  who  bore  him  two  children,  John  and  Van  S.,  both  of 
whom  are  still  living.  He  possessed  all  the  elements  of  a  brave  and 
successful  soldier.  Like  Marion,  "  he  consulted  with  all  his  men 
respectfully,  heard  them  patiently,  weighed  their  suggestions,  and 
silently  approached  his  own  conclusions.  They  knew  his  determi 
nation  only  by  his  actions."  Brady  had  but  few  superiors  as  a 
woodsman  ;  he  would  strike  out  into  the  heart  of  the  wilderness,  and 
with  no  guide,  but  the  sun  by  day,  and  the  stars  by  night,  or  in 
their  absence,  then  by  such  natural  marks  as  the  barks  and  tops  of 
874 


CAPTAIN  BRADY'S  FAMILY.  55 

trees  he  would  move  on  steadily,  in  a  direct  line  toward  the  point  of 
his  destination.  He  always  avoided  beaten  paths  and  the  borders  of 
streams ;  and  never  was  known  to  leave  his  track  behind  hhn.  In 
this  manner  he  eluded  pursuit,  and  defied  detection.  He  was  often 
vainly  hunted  by  his  own  men,  and  was  more  likely  to  find  them, 
than  they  him. 

875 


